After Dawn
by The Shadow of Light
Summary: The story of how the group copes and deals with their demons and each other after the game. Lots of Chris and Ashley and Sam, but Emily, Matt, Jessica, and Mike are all included.
1. Forward

**Author's Note:**

 _Okay so first, I wrote up my idea of the history of this group of friends to explain the canon this story is set in. It is very important to this story to understand the past that I created for them, though it is completely within the canon of the game:_

Josh met Chris in elementary school after the "strap snapping" incident and they quickly became best friends (Boom. Butterfly effect). Hannah met Sam in middle school, and they eventually became best friends as well (as Sam grew up, it seemed that her hopeless best friend perpetually stayed that age).

In high school, Beth had a class with Ashley, shy and introverted in a way that hid her quirkiness (Ashley has dealt with mild social anxiety due mostly to depression for a long time, stemming from abusive parenting and a drunk father). Beth, a relatively quiet person as well-uninvolved with the drama of high school not because she was introverted but because she simply didn't care-sat on the back row next to the quiet girl and they connected. She was with Beth a lot when Hannah and Sam hung out, but it was the mutual friend type thing for Sam.

Hannah developed a massive crush on Mike, the most popular and sought-after guy in high school, and Sam knew she'd get over it and move on just like all the countless others, but she didn't. Eventually, after a year or so, Hannah started slowly adjusting the way she dressed and acted at school, the people she talked to and sat with, to try to worm her way into the popular group. Sam was patient and understanding with Hannah's phase, though she had no interest in being popular. (Sam was on the track team, and she was the best rock climber in gym class, which combined with her stunning looks got her more attention than she wanted as it was.) Eventually, Mike noticed Hannah, and he and his current girlfriend Emily invited Hannah to parties, to which she readily accepted. Sam tagged along to these because she felt the instinct to protect her friend. She never really trusted the popular people—Mike and Emily and Emily's best friend, Jessica. Matt, the leader of the jocks at school, was usually there too, though he was gentler and quieter than the others. Everyone could tell he and Jessica had a thing.

But Hannah seemed to be pretty welcome in their group, at least by Mike, who could always use an extra set of boobs around (and Sam came with Hannah, which was a bonus). Emily and Jessica were pretty much indifferent to her—they knew she had a crush on Mike (everyone at school did) and it made them a bit reluctant of her, but Hannah was nice and funny and they didn't mind having her around.

Finally, Hannah was able to convince Mike, Emily, Jessica, and Matt to come hang out with her other friends—her brother and sister and their friends, who she promised were cool, for a weekend at their lodge in the mountains. It sounded like a pretty awesome party, and the four of them agreed.

Chris was a little awkward, but he liked people, and he liked meeting new people. But when it exhausted him, he went with his best friend down to the kitchen to drink with him. Josh loved making new friends, though he was pretty well known at school anyways for his looks and his charisma—he just liked having a good time, and he just always got along with everyone so well. Beth was responsible and smart—she had promised her parents to watch after everyone that weekend and she played the part of their mother. When Jessica had the idea for the prank, Ashley was so willing because she had issues with depression and anxiety and an impulsive desire to be accepted and fit in—and it was her first time hanging out with them. She needed them to like her. Matt just did what he was told.

Obviously, everything changed the night Hannah and Beth disappeared. The trauma took its hold on everyone in the group and no matter how they chose to handle it, they could not deny the ties that bound them now (I get into it a bit in the story). And then their relationships change yet again the next year, when all of their true colors show—this kinda plays into the mail purpose of the story.

All of this is canon to this fanfiction and will come into play eventually. Also in this fanfiction, you'll notice the various "decision branches" that I chose as canon in my head (Mike loses his fingers to the bear trap, Chris chooses to save Ashley, Ashley stabs Josh...), but I don't think I need to point them all out, since they should be obvious, and there are no contradicting events—if it can't happen in the game, it doesn't happen in my story. What I do need to point out is that everyone survives in this story, and Josh is a wendigo (NOT the best ending in my opinion but it is necessary to this story… you'll see why).


	2. Alone

**Author's Note: This is more of a preview than anything :) I have quite a lot of this story written (over forty pages atm), but I want to polish it all out first, so here is the first bit of the first chapter. I hope you enjoy :)**

Josh struggled to stand, but in his panicked state, could not find his footing. Hannah had dropped him right in front of a pile of human corpses, and then hurried off as if to tend to unfinished business. He fumbled around on the cold, dirty ground, until he saw the corpses, and began to scream again. "No! No no no! It's not real!" Then the voices came back. All of them at once. Hannah, Beth, "The Psycho," Doctor Hill… his own friends… He crumpled to the floor, clawing at his ears, thinking maybe if he could rip them off he'd stop hearing the voices.

"You're _not_ real!" "Leave me alone!" "I don't take orders from you!"

He fought this—he had always fought ALL OF THIS—for his friends. The voices, the visions, the torment that went on inside his head…

And no one was here to see him fight it.

"I DON'T TAKE ORDES FROM YOU!" He wouldn't hurt his friends anymore. Not just because some worthless voice in the back of his pitiful mind told him that he had to because they didn't care about him. That no one did.

He held his head in his hands, trying to shake all his thoughts away, trying to regain any ounce of self control he had in his pathetic head, for his friends. For the people he loved and cared for more than anything in the world. He would do anything for them. And he would get out of here.

But the voices just kept invading his mind.

"You had so many people who cared about you… and now you're all alone…"

He _was_ all alone. None of them cared about him. His own best friend knocked him out, told him he was a liar and a coward… Sam didn't defend him either… Sam… He thought of her and a tear formed behind his eye. He wanted so much to be something more for her. He always had. She was the reason he kept on going, kept trying day after day. He thought they had something special… But she didn't love him. She could never love a freak like him.

He couldn't understand why they'd been so upset, why they'd hit him and hurt him… They had never been so mean to him…

The sound of the wendigos screeching echoed all around the cave, but he could not hear it for all the voices in his head. He looked down at the pile of bodies, reached out to touch it, having no idea what was real or not anymore.

"Join me, _Josh_ …" came Hannah's twisted voice. Josh closed his eyes and cringed at the vision of the wendigo.

His mind repeated for him the moment that he dared not remember. "I'm not your _bro_ …"

He gave one last drawn-out cry of sheer hopelessness at the thought of being utterly, completely forsaken, by everyone he'd ever cared about, and bit down into one of the bodies, tearing the flesh off the bones and feeling the cool blood pouring all over his face.

He devoured the corpses hungrily, letting the blood soak him all over. This was all he had now. He felt something change inside him… something different, something primal, take over. He welcomed the change, continued devouring the flesh even faster in an attempt to speed the process up. If this is what being human was like, he didn't want it anymore. He welcomed the sweet release…

But the voices were still there.


	3. Aftermath

The wendigo disappeared in a quick movement into the mine again, and Jessica heard its angry, screeching call echoing through the halls, irritated at losing its toys. Jessica collapsed on the cold ground on her knees, snow clinging to her pants, as she put her head in her hands. She wanted nothing more than to sit down, to never move again. She could barely move as it was. Every movement tore at her nervous system, every single muscle and every bone damaged and in pain. She moved in a mechanical way, knowing she was moving, but unable to feel it anymore. It was probably a combination of the cold numbing her and her body shutting down from pain. But they had to keep going. She wouldn't stop until she was safe, until she was miles from this forest. A small stream of red appeared in the snow beneath her knee. She had landed on a rock, but through the numbness from the snow, she hadn't even known. She stood up with a cry of pain as it ripped through her, but focused on looking around at the hillside below. Keeping her mind on her survival kept her from thinking about how much pain she was in. She was high enough to see the cabin, but she had no idea how they'd get there. It might as well have been a thousand miles away…

But she couldn't surrender now, not when she'd come so far. She would see Mike again.

Matt was bent over, hands on his knees, breathing deep. He reached out to help her up, and she grabbed his hand and pulled herself up. "You okay, Jess?" He spun around and looked behind him, "I think we lost it." She merely nodded, blinking slowly. She had no energy to spare to speak.

Just then, the cabin became surrounded by a light orange glow, smoke filling the horizon. The fire spread to engulf the entire cabin in a matter of seconds. Jessica stood frozen, unable to move or even breathe. "Oh my God…" Matt muttered under his breath, "No…" Their friends… were they all dead? Had whatever was trying to kill them found the rest of them?

Jessica stumbled again, began to fall against the rocky mountainside, snapping Matt out of his stare as he quickly took Jessica in his arms and steadied her. "Come on, Jess, we have to go... I'm sorry." His voice was gentle and comforting though there was no comfort to be found now. He knew he had to be strong for her though. She made a quiet, groggy moaning noise but it was just her body's instinctive reaction to her pain. That was about what the state her mentality had been reduced to. Matt held her arm to steady her and they did the only thing they knew to do, and followed the glowing light and clouds of smoke in the distance.

* * *

Chris struggled to his feet, unable to take his eyes off the cabin he'd spent so much time in over the years completely consumed by blazing flames. Through his overwhelming grief, he could only pray that the wendigos died with it. Out of the corner of his eye, Ashley caught his attention as she tried to stand herself, though she appeared unable, and fell back down on the snow. He stumbled over to her, losing his footing several times in his shakiness. His heart pounding, his mind barely working, he was amazed he was able to move this much. But as usual, Ashley kept him going.

Ashley lifted her head slightly to see him as he approached her, but she merely looked back down at the ground, her mind only focusing on trying to understand everything that had happened. He reached his arms out to her, but she could not move. Could not burrow into him as she had wanted to before. So they sat in silence, Chris's arms wrapped around her back, as he could somehow shield her from everything. He no longer felt that he had the ability to protect anyone, to save anyone, and his gesture felt completely empty, hopeless, but he could not shake his protective nature.

Sam stood immediately and began looking around, doing a mental headcount thanks to her extremely motherly nature. Chris, Ashley, Mike, Emily… they had already lost Jessica and Matt… and Josh… She felt her chest fall down into her stomach, suddenly nothing inside her but an agonizing darkness, felt that she might completely lose herself if she thought about Josh for a second longer. So she immediately returned to making sure everyone was okay. The same way she'd been coping all night.

As the helicopters descended, she helped the others get inside, Chris sitting next to Ashley, who was now burying her head in his lap, groping at his shirt with numb fingers wordlessly. It seemed she didn't want to see another second of this place. Sam didn't blame her. Chris stroked her head gently as she cried softly. He seemed to be calming her a bit. Chris reached out and pulled in Emily, who was desperately calling Matt's name. Finally, Sam turned around and jumped inside next to Mike, who still carried a tired, blank expression. She knew Mike well enough to know that many thoughts were racing through his head, but he maintained control so well, that he even gave her a weak smile. She was glad she had someone else there that could help her hold everyone together.

But though she thought she was completely in control, as the blazing cabin got further and further away, she realized how wrong she was. Everything felt wrong. Leaving without their friends— _again_. What was it about this fucking mountain? Without Jessica this time, and without Matt. Without Josh… Not Josh. Oh God, not Josh. Anyone but Josh, she found herself thinking, and then hated herself for it.

She closed her eyes and finally let out a cathartic cry of pain and sadness, and screamed Josh's name. She couldn't leave without him. Mike laid a hand gently, cautiously on her back, in an attempt to comfort her. Though he could not imagine the betrayal she felt right now. Everything that Josh had done to them this weekend… it would all be nothing compared to the betrayal of leaving him behind. She would never be able to deal with that. But the only thing she could do now was turn her head, and scream into Mike's chest, as he tried to comfort her.

* * *

Finally finished with the rangers' questions and patched up, Emily grabbed the crutches the nurse had brought and almost knocked her down pushing towards the door. The nurse had been in the middle of explaining how to walk with crutches when Emily cut her off.

"I know how to use them you moldy old hag! Where are my friends!?" The nurse, clearly not a day over thirty, threw her hands up and gestured down the hall.

Emily forced herself down the hall to where she thought she could hear the sound of Sam and Chris's voices. They were both shouting at a ranger about going back for their last friend. As she tried to figure out who had been left, having no idea that Mike had informed the group of Josh's death and that Sam and Chris were hysterically clinging to any hope they could grasp, she felt Matt's warm arms suddenly wrap around her from behind, holding her tight. "Matt, thank God!" She spun around and hugged him back, but to her surprise, finding her boyfriend seemed to do little to easy her worry. "Emily, are you okay? What happened? How are you alive?" Questions gushed out of Matt's mouth, but she unintentionally tuned them out. She was still scanning the room, doing a head count. Sam, Chris—Ashley attached to his arm like she would never let go again. Mike was in a chair in the corner, eyes shut but definitely not asleep. Chris and Sam seemed to be describing Josh… Had they left him….? But then where was…

"Emily?" A small broken voice called from the corner where Emily had seen Mike. When she turned to look, she saw a small broken figure slowly climb to her feet where she had been nestled behind her boyfriend.

Jessica very slowly trudged over to where Emily was standing, Matt still holding her shoulders firmly. He had finally stopped asking questions, understanding she clearly wasn't going to talk yet, and was simply holding her to his chest. "Em? Are you okay?" Jessica looked like she was drugged out of her mind and had been tossed into a meat grinder. She was a shell of the Jessica that Emily had known since pre-K.

Emily's eyebrows furrowed in her typically angry, bitchy way. "What the fuck happened to you?!" Emily demanded of the bloody mess that was Jessica, trying to sound angry to hide her relief and concern for her long-time friend turned bitter enemy.

Jessica, too tired to react to Emily's angry outburst, ignored it, as she had become accustomed to doing, and slowly looked Emily up and down, stopping on the wound on her shoulder, which had begun bleeding again from the pressure of the crutches and her rush to get to her friends.

Jess seemed to wake up a little, her eyes widened at the site of the blood. "Oh my God Em! You're bleeding! Mike! Emily is hurt! You need to help her! Help her!" Tears poured down Jess's cheeks, her arms making spastic movements. She didn't feel the pain from her wounds reopening. Mike rushed over to her, trying to calm her down. Finally, she fell to her knees, sobbing and saying over and over, "Don't let her die, don't let Emily die…"

At first Emily was speeches, but then she filled herself with rage and frustration. "God dammit Jessica you can't do this! You're not supposed to care about me, you're supposed to hate my guts!" She was screaming at the blond crumpled on the floor now. Both Matt and Mike were trying to calm her down but she wasn't done. "You stupid bitch! You can't do this! You're not allowed to hurt yourself for me anymore! You're not my fucking _friend_ anymore!"

Emily kept screaming, tears streaming down her face. Members of the medical team came to restrain her before she hurt herself anymore. Her shoulder had begun gushing blood, torn open by her violent movements. Then one of the doctors made the call to sedate her.

The last thing Emily remembered was laying on the floor with surrounded by Matt, Mike, and Jessica, who was on her knees, still crying, and saying sorry over and over.

Emily woke and bolted upright in her hospital bed, quickly regretting the movement as pain shot through her shoulder. Then she began to remember the exchange between her and her former best friend, and she laid back down, swearing. She had tried so hard to make Jessica hate her. She had dumped Mike, after Jessica had worked so hard setting them up together. Only to steal Jessica's secret boyfriend Matt (they had never been official because of Jessica's bigot father, who could barely stand her being friends with a "damn Jap" as he referred to Emily). And she had done everything else she could think of to push Jessica away since the night of the prank. But it didn't matter. It was clear now that Jessica had seen right through her. The whole time. She must have known that Emily was trying to push her away… and went along with it because she knew there was _no_ arguing with Emily. If it's what her best friend wanted, it's what she got. It had been that way their whole life. Jessica had given up toys and boys and everything else for her countless times. If they both wanted it, Jessica would gladly give it to Emily.

Jessica had always hid behind her massive insecurity, ever since she was little, giving up on academic pursuits to be the prettiest and most popular girl in school. Emily was the only one who ever truly understood that about her, who really knew how she felt deep down. She never understood why Jessica was so insecure, tried to tell her how great and how smart she was. And then there was Emily. The exact opposite—prideful and confident, not ashamed or insecure in the least. She didn't care what other people thought; she knew who she was. Which eventually led to extreme bitchiness syndrome in high school. But not to Jessica, never to Jessica. Emily pursued her academic studies relentlessly, and tried to convince Jessica to do the same. Jessica told her it didn't matter; she wasn't smart enough to be good at school. All she had were her looks, and so she learned how to use them. Jessica had always wanted to be like Emily, looked up to her so much, wished she had the confidence to be who she was… They had never talked about any of it; it was just always there, unspoken.

The day after the prank, Jessica had taken full blame for the whole idea, telling everyone that she thought it all up and convinced everyone to go along, which was mostly the truth. She had set up the prank for Emily's sake then taking the blame for the same reason. But eventually, Emily had had enough. She had to stop Jessica from sacrificing herself anymore. She had to take the blame from her somehow. And if that meant making her an enemy to her own best friend, so be it. She knew everyone else would have no problem blaming her—she was the most insensitive one of the group, the easiest one to blame. But she didn't care. And she had thought it had worked, that she had freed her friend from the burden.

But now, lying in a hospital bed, Emily realized that Jessica had just gone along with Emily's new game, but this time, instead of cops and robbers or princess and servant, Emily's new game had been bitter rivals. And Jessica has played her part beautifully, because that was what her BFF wanted to play.

Emily curdled into as small of a ball as she could.

 _God dammit Jessica, you stupid bitch…_

* * *

Jessica held Mike's hand on the way to the hospital. They had both been transported straight to the closest one from the ranger station. He sat in the back of the ambulance, in a chair next to where she laid, smiling at her for comfort. He felt like literal hell—his eyes felt like they were driving into his skull, he knew he had at least one broken rib, which caused fire in his entire abdomen every time he so much as breathed, and his ankle was badly fractured, making it feel like a knife stabbing him every time he moved it. His hand felt better—the nurses at the station had given him pain killer and antiseptic and better bandages to hold him over, but the massive open wound still stung like it was forever pressed against a burning stovetop.

And still he smiled. Warmly, comfortingly, at his girlfriend. He stroked her hand and arm assuringly, though he was in no position to comfort her himself. But Mike was tough. It was his job to watch out for and comfort Jessica, for all of them, but he especially tried hard for Jessica, and nothing seemed to slow this man down.

He was taken to a separate room and there he stayed for a few days. He checked on Jessica every chance he got—when they finally let him out of bed—but Jessica was always heavily sedated and only barely recognized him. He would stroke her shoulder or run a hand through her hair and then kiss her gently before he left. Even when he was released, he stayed with her many nights, though she was hardly even aware he was there, curled into a ball on the recliner in the corner of the room.

In her sleep, he could occasionally hear her quietly, but urgently calling Mike's name.


	4. Regret

Chris sat in the middle of the couch with Sam leaning on one shoulder and Ashley on the other. He tried to hold everything in and be strong for them—his mind kept forcibly reminding him it was what they needed—so he kept placing his lips lightly on Ashley's head and stroking Sam's back lightly. They sat that way on Sam's couch for several hours, able to talk for a few minutes here and there between silence or tears. They couldn't talk much about what had happened the day before yet, except Sam, who was strong enough to explain exactly what she'd found about Josh in the basement. Chris brought a hand to his face to hide to hide his pain and wipe his tears with his sleeve quickly. He knew Josh was taking pills for depression after his sisters died—but that was totally normal, he'd always reminded himself. He'd never known how bad it really was. What really went on in Josh's head. And that was his downfall—he'd never pushed the subject. Josh was the one in control of their relationship—of all of his relationships. He was charming, charismatic, and Chris was quiet, awkward. _How fucking_ stupid _could I be?_

Chris sat in silence almost the whole time, because he knew if he opened his mouth he'd lose it completely. But after Sam told them what she'd learned about Josh, he just couldn't take it anymore. His guilt and self hatred threatened to release itself and he didn't want Ashley _or_ Sam to see him like that. He had to let it out somehow, in a place where he could really grieve by himself, hate himself with everything he had. He shifted uncomfortably underneath the two girls. They had stopped crying for the moment, but their faces were damp from a night of emotional trauma. _I wonder what Matt and Emily and Mike and Jessica are doing?_ Chris found himself thinking. It wasn't that they had all parted quickly—their minds had just all been in different places, unable to think or focus until everyone was properly safe and far away from that mountain.

As Chris shifted, Ashley lifted her head to look at him, her big eyes curious. Sam sat up right on the couch, leaning forward, and checked her phone. 11:54. Through a small sigh, she muttered smoothly, "Augh, I'm sorry Chris, you probably want to get some sleep huh?" she looked at him with a hint of a very Sammy smile, calm, gentle, even through everything.

He looked to Ashley, whose eyes were quietly pleading, though she said nothing. Even though Chris had said that every second he'd spent with her was the only thing he wanted, and even though she'd kissed him… she was scared. She was nervous. Just like she always was. What she didn't realize was through his overly confident charade, he was too. She waited for him to say something, waited for him to affirm everything he'd said that night. But Chris merely gave a small, unsure nod, standing slowly.

"I could probably sleep for the next month…" he murmured lightly, though the evidence of sincerity was in his voice. "Me too," Sam wiped and rubbed her eyes in response.

As Chris walked slowly to the door, he turned back to them, "Hey, you guys get some sleep too, okay?" he said in a quiet voice, looking with genuine, through half-hearted concern from Sam to Ashley. He was tired. He was at his breaking point and he couldn't keep it in any longer.

"We will," she assured him as she looked to Ashley, who was staring at Chris as he left. Chris turned slowly, almost reluctantly, and hesitated when he got to the door, but then he opened it and left.

Ashley's head fell onto the couch, hidden by her arm in front of her face, and she began sobbing immediately. Sam scooted closer and wrapped her arms around her. Sam had forged a stronger relationship with the smaller girl who confided in her, and whom Sam had protected like a little sister. Ashley could see how leaving Josh was destroying her, and Sam could see how shaken Ashley was.

"Hey, it's okay…" she comforted her, without even asking. Her voice was tired as well. Ashley murmured something under her breath but Sam couldn't hear it through the tears and her arm. "Hmm?" she asked gently, pulling some hair back from her face.

"He said things were going to change! He said he… he wanted to be with me!" Sam had never seen Ashley like this. She was crying out desperately, her usually small voice shrill and loud, echoing in silence for a moment. Without missing a beat, Sam understood. "I'm sorry, Ash…" came her truly sympathetic voice.

"He meant it you know?" Sam dared to say.

"Then why did he just leave?"

"He's _tired_ , Ashley. Just like us…" though her voice was sympathetic, it was also convicted.

Ashley couldn't argue, but she couldn't shake the feeling of pure emptiness.

After a pause, Sam persisted relentlessly. It was high time she spoke up on the subject. She didn't like stepping into other peoples' business, and that's why she never said anything before, but now that the small, broken girl was curled in a ball on her couch, Sam went into full-on mother mode. "I _know_ he wants you, okay." She waited for a response. "He does," she said again firmly. _Does he though?_ Ashley thought. Everyone was always telling her that, and now she'd heard it from his mouth, and she still didn't know. _How can I tell with him?_ He thought she was going to die—he thought _he_ was going to die…

"He just needs some time right now… Can you blame him?" she asked suddenly, which made Ashley look up at Sam with red eyes. Sam had a compassionate way of seeing and thinking from others' perspectives when Ashley struggled with it. She sniffed, hoping Sam was right.

Sam sat on the couch with her arms around Ashley, who curled her tiny body into Sam, until they fell asleep.

Meanwhile, Chris dug through his cabinets in search of the vodka he hoped he still had somewhere. Desperate, it was his last resort to stop what he felt coming on. He was furious, he was sad, and he was exhausted. When he found the large, clear bottle, nothing on Earth could stop him. All alone, he drowned in the alcohol and his tears, screaming profanities at himself and at the world loud enough as to drown out every thought.


	5. Guilt

Ashley awoke to the feeling of Sam shifting on the couch. She blinked several times, then wiped her messy eyes. Sam looked at her with a smile, "Morning," she greeted. Ashley looked around, remembering where she was and that they'd fallen asleep on the couch the night before. "What time is it?" she asked quietly. Sam checked her phone. "Four o'clock," she answered. "PM?" Ashley asked suddenly. Sam nodded simply, "Yep." Ashley's first thought was Chris. What had he been doing? Was he okay? She shook away the stupid thoughts, frustrated at herself for thinking them.

Sam stretched her arms into the air above her head, "That was some epic sleep," she stated with a small smile. She seemed so strong and okay around other people—it was impossible to tell when Sam was hurting a lot of the time. She was much like Josh in that way.

Ashley nodded half-heartedly in agreement, "Yeah. And then we woke up," she murmured, somewhat joking but her voice held a hint of solemnity. Sam gave her a small chuckle, and then considered saying something, but wasn't sure what to say to that. She stood with a sigh, "Well, I'm gonna go take a shower." As much as she wanted the longest bath of her life, she didn't want to leave Ashley alone too long.

She struggled with all of her might to keep from thinking about Josh, but the horrifying images from two nights ago would not be erased so easily. The monsters and their cold, vicious dead eyes made her feel completely empty inside, and it terrified her. Then the thought of what they'd done to Josh… her body went limp and she grabbed the wall of the shower to keep herself stable. It took an actual conscious effort to stand and move.

As she was drying off, she noticed a spot of bright red in the trash and when she leaned over to look, she noticed there were several bloody tissues in the trash can, and then she noticed a glint of silver. Her heart stopped for a moment when she realized what she was looking at. She came slowly out of the door and panicked a bit when she didn't see Ashley on the couch. "Ashley?" she called cautiously. "In the kitchen," came Ashley's voice.

She padded quietly into the kitchen, where Ashley spun around to look at her. "Breakfast?" was all she could manage, and even then her voice was dead, emotionless, empty. Sam approached Ashley slowly, her head down, and lifted the small, shiny blade in her hand. "Why didn't you ever tell anyone…?" she asked with sad eyes. Ashley's head fell in shame. She didn't like that part of her at all.

"No one needs to know that part of me…" she murmured harshly, "I've been dealing with it on my own all these years; I don't need to bother my friends with it."

Sam's eyes narrowed, but in a protective way. " _Bother_ us?" she asked incredulously, her voice slightly raised. "We can _help_ you. You don't have to do this." Her face was twisted with sympathetic sadness, her eyebrows deeply set to match her pleading voice. She thought of all the times she'd said that to Josh… she _thought_ he'd taken her advice… but now she knew he never listened… or never believed her...

Ashley on the other hand, was incredibly relieved to hear the sincerity in Sam's voice. A smile grew on her pink face. "Thank you, Sam…" she said in a hoarse voice. It would not be as easy as just stopping—she knew that, she'd tried so many times—but the point was she had her friends' support, and that meant everything to her delicate soul.

Ashley's voice distracted Sam from her dark thoughts, and as Ashley wrapped her arms around her, Sam held her tightly. Ashley was comforted by the sound of Sam's warm, steady breathing close to her ear, and Sam was comforted by the feeling of her friend's contact. When she pulled away, Sam began opening cabinets for bowls and cereal.

Ashley plopped down at the able and Sam sat across from her, eating quietly for a moment. "Well I'm going to go see my parents today," Sam eventually filled the silence. Ashley looked up at her, though said nothing, and Sam continued, "They want to see me, and… want me to see a doctor and all, you know," she waved a hand in a "no big deal" gesture. Ashley nodded slowly, understandingly. "But I'll text you, okay?" Sam said gently.

She was not sure how she felt about going to a doctor. She always liked to have an open mind about things, but she couldn't deny that she didn't feel complete trust or respect for them anymore, and probably never could again… She knew that Josh's doctor was only trying to help—she'd seen the messages on his phone—but that didn't stop her from feeling betrayed… her closest friend had died and the only people who could have done anything about it couldn't stop it. But then again, neither could his friends. Neither could she.

She changed the subject. "You going to Chris's?" she asked innocently, thinking that it was the only other place she could go, and she sure as hell didn't want her to be by herself, especially not now. Ashley shrugged barely, not looking at Sam. The truth was she hadn't wanted to think about it. She was waiting for him to text her, but he was doing the same, and both were too shaken and too scared to take a step, thinking it was best to wait for the other. Sam could see how messed up they were. Truth was she'd known all along they wouldn't be a normal couple. But an inseparable one if they could ever get the fuck together.

"Okay, look, I've known Chris for a long time, and right now… you're gonna have to go to _him_ ," she admitted reluctantly. She knew it wasn't what Ashley wanted to hear. Sam sighed deeply, "You're gonna have to be brave, Ash…" Her voice was stern, sincere, but also compassionate. Ashley looked shamefully at the ground with a small scoff, "Yeah I don't know if you've noticed but brave doesn't really describe me," she said ironically. She thought about all the lies she told… just so that no one would be upset at her. Even Sam didn't know that much about her. "He already admitted his feelings didn't he? Don't you believe him?" Though she knew it wasn't as simple as that for them.

Ashley pulled her knees up to her chest, a habit when she got really upset. She tended to recede into herself when things went bad. "I just—what if I ruin everything?" she asked suddenly in her desperate voice, looking at Sam with pleading eyes. "Ashley, I promise you, no matter how scared you are, he is too. He's just… dealing with a lot of demons right now. Josh was his world..." She choked on the words, remembering the flash in his eyes when he was with Josh. She paused and forced herself to regain control, "But that's why he needs you right now. He's going to be… different these next few weeks, but deep down he hasn't changed. He's still the same amazing man, and he still wants to protect you, to keep you safe… You just need to let him."

Ashley looked up at Sam, "How do you know everything?" she asked quietly, in almost a bitter voice. Ashley couldn't help but smile at her, "Cuz I'm kind of amazing," she said in a mock arrogant voice. Ashley narrowed her eyes at Sam, "You've been hanging out with Chris too much."

* * *

By the time Ashley got to Chris's, Chris couldn't feel most of his body anymore, and his brain was barely even thinking. Which was his goal. He couldn't think about how he'd killed his best friend. How Josh was eaten alive by a monster because of his ignorance and failure.

She had stood at the door for what seemed like ages. When Chris saw it was Ashley, he cursed to himself and paused for a moment, unsure what to do. But he couldn't just let her stand there. He had opened the door for her, and she summoned the nerve to smile at him the way she always had when she came over to his place to hang out, as if everything was still fine.

But it was not fine. Her eyes found the bottle of vodka sitting on the coffee table, and at about the same time she smelled it in the air. Her heart sank as she looked at Chris, who she could now see was inebriated. His eyes sagged tiredly, and he leaned against the door.

"Hey… hey Ash…" he tried to greet her pleasantly, did the best he could, "Come in," he welcomed, stepping aside.

She stepped inside, but then she turned to face him, "Chris… are you drunk?" she asked skeptically.

Chris mumbled something inaudible as he collapsed on the couch. She stood above him for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. His mumbling got louder, though he held his head in his hands and mumbled into them, "Didn't know… what else… do… fucking… idiot… didn't… couldn't do… don't have… anything else… Josh… dead… fucking KILLED HIM!" his voice escalated into a yell, a chilling mixture of anger and sheer terror.

Ashley had a sudden, desperate idea. She debated on whether she should do it or not, but then she looked at how he sat, hunched over, his shoulders unable to support his head, his eyes red, puffy, and half-closed with the strain from all the tears and also being too drunk to keep them open. She had to do _something_ to help him. Besides, if it was a mistake, he would be too drunk to remember, she told herself. Summoning all of her sexy, she turned to face him.

"Here… let me have this…" she slid the bottle carefully from his hand. He didn't protest. She sat it down on the coffee table and turned back to him, "Maybe _I_ can help you better…" she said quietly, her voice coming out a bit shier than she meant it to. When she wasn't even trying, she could be sexy as hell, but when she had to make a conscious effort, she overthought it and was nervous and unsure. Story of her life.

She slid herself onto Chris's lap, facing him, straddling his legs, as she attempted to hold his eye contact. Chris's body reacted to the feeling of her perfect butt sliding across his lap, causing his eyes to widen suddenly, but in his drunken state, he could not hold his focus, and his eyes floated around the room, his head falling. She put a hand under his chin and lifted it to look at her. She paused for a moment, but then pressed her lips to his gently at first, just like she had at the lodge before he'd left to get Josh. It was the first time they'd kissed since then… The thought brought her a small pang of sadness. But she focused on the feeling now, the way her lips felt against his and the high it gave her, the rush of blood and the warm feeling through her body, not thinking about how pathetic it was. She added pressure, lifted a hand to slide it into his hair, grabbing a handful lightly.

He sat mostly still, in shock, even through the alcohol. He was slightly aware of the sudden warmth in his lower stomach though… But just as he began to numbly obey his body's impulses, sliding a hand under her shirt, laid it against her smooth skin, he felt something suddenly eating away at everything else. Something… wrong.

His fingers curled against her skin as he finally identified it. It was too prominent not to. Guilt.

"Nghhh," he grunted as his head fall back against the couch. "I can't," he finally said quietly.

"What? Why?" she tilted her head to look at him, her small voice sounding offended, her eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of confusion, sadness, and demand of explanation.

He couldn't do this with her—his conscience couldn't allow himself to feel this happy with her, when all he could think was that he had picked this, picked her, over Josh. "It's too soon, Ash… I just… all I can think of is Josh…" he mumbled, a bit ashamed.

She looked at him sideways, with one eyebrow raised judgingly. Then he simply sighed deeply, sadly, "Nevermind…" she mumbled, her voice a mixture of disappointment with a touch of irritation as she slid off Chris's lap. He brought a hand to his face, closed his eyes, and sighed deeply as well. She stood and slid her jacket on, then started putting her boots on.

"Wai, wha—where are you going?" he lifted his head in a labored motion and saw her slide her hands into her jacket pockets awkwardly.

"I should… get home…" was all she said.

"No, wait, I… I didn't—I didn't mean it." He really didn't want her to leave. He didn't want her to think he was pushing her away. But then part of him wanted to be alone. The sick part of him that hated himself and blamed himself now wanted to hold him down in the mud, keep him there gasping for air. He didn't understand why he was feeling what he felt.

"I just… need to go. I'm sorry…" She opened the door, stepped outside, and called back, "Text me, okay?" with a concerned expression, but that was it.

He let out a long groan at the bitter taste he'd just left in both of their mouths. _She was just trying to help, you pathetic sicko._ He couldn't lose her, no matter what. He couldn't lose her too…

He sat completely still for several minutes, not moving a single muscle except to blink, before he suddenly yelled, "FUCK!" and hit the ground so hard he felt his hand tingle, but he gave no reaction, simply collapsed limply onto the floor, and let the mixture of saliva and tears soak the carpet as he accepted that he could not lift himself off the floor, and eventually fell asleep there again.


	6. Pain

Sam laid in her bed, trying to fall asleep, though it had been hours since she laid down, and she still stared at the same spot on the ceiling. This had become her nightly routine now. It took a while for everything to catch up to Sam… but it did. Even when she spent most days with Ashley, every day Ashley would eventually leave or fall asleep, and she'd always end up alone in her dark world with her dark thoughts.

Eventually, she'd drift into unconsciousness, only when her body could no longer sustain itself and sleep finally took over. She glanced to her bedside table at the clock. 3:00. Her eyes caught the bottle of pills next to it again, basic prescription for depression, and she looked away guiltily. They kept the dangerous thoughts away, but they didn't keep the pain away. She still felt the same torture every night when the world went silent to leave her alone with her thoughts.

The kind of frustration she felt was not the same as Chris's. Yes, she did feel upset with herself for not being able to help him, when he helped her so much, but what tortured her was that she never got the chance to tell him what he meant to her before they left him for dead on a mountain with a man-eating monster. All the nights they stayed up talking, not realizing—or maybe not caring—how late it was. How it would start with someone mentioning Hannah or Beth—and then the others would get dismissive and uncomfortable and have to leave the conversation to the two people who could relate, as if they all knew it was what they needed—and they would both sit and smolder in the sadness for a while, talking it out, but it would always end with smiles, with jokes and gentle nudges and sometimes even drinks.

After they'd gotten home that first day when they were all still together, Chris had told Sam that Josh had visited various psychiatrists and taken medication since he'd known him. Sam was upset at Josh for never having told her this at first, but Chris reluctantly explained that he didn't want her to see him like that... That he wanted to be strong for her. She'd literally fallen to her knees right then and there. Chris had placed a hand on her back awkwardly, but all she could feel was the bitter sting. He cared for her so much that he dealt with all his demons in secret—just so she wouldn't think poorly of him. And she could never even acknowledge his feelings.

Selfish.

The more she thought about it, the worse she felt. Against her better judgement, she looked up his symptoms and realized that he was constantly dealing with the thought that everyone hated him, eventually leading to him hating himself more than anyone else could've. The idea that no one really cared for him—not even Sam, as much as they relied on each other. And she did nothing to help free him of these thoughts.

Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.

It always seemed like he was handling it so well, like he was the one who would make Sam feel better. She numbly felt the tears begin to fall steadily down her face as she realized it was always the other way around. He needed her—he wanted her—so much more than she'd needed him. And now all she wanted to do was wrap him up in her arms and hold him tightly against her forever, run her hands through his soft, dark hair and whisper in his ear that she'd never let anything hurt him.

She could still see that adorable, goofy, yet completely relaxed grin on his face. So smooth. So deep and full of love… So happy. His outward charm and charisma betrayed his deeply dark and intricate inner struggle.

Piercing pain took over her body without warning, and she had no defense against these attacks. She shoved her face into her pillow and screamed until she felt her voice leaving her. Then she curled into a tight ball under her covers sobbing. She found herself calling out for Josh and Hannah. She was aware of how weak she sounded, but she couldn't care. She needed them back.

The two people she loved most in the world were both gone now. She was able to work through losing Hannah with Josh by her side, but with him gone she missed her best friend more than she ever had, even a year later.

She took in a gasping breath as she shoved the pills off the table in one swipe of her arm, not wanting to think of all the things they reminded her of anymore. Not wanting to think anymore. She rolled over and thrusted her face into her pillow as she let out a broken scream, letting the pain take her. Just the same as it did every night.


	7. Memories

**Author's Note: I had to throw in some Josh and Sam! :)**

Among the things that tormented Sam were her memories.

A week after Hannah and Beth disappeared a year ago, Sam had gone over to their house, to get some of her things that were still in Hannah's room. The Washingtons would not clean out Hannah and Beth's rooms, as doing so would have made their case final, and they weren't ready to give up yet. In the back of all of their minds… they all couldn't help suspecting that Hannah and Beth were dead. But no one ever so much as uttered the possibility.

But Sam also wanted to see Josh. She had been so worried about him. She texted him, but he was always so quiet and dismissive. She would have to confront him in person.

She knocked on the door of the large house, and Josh opened the door with a warm smile. "Hey, what's up Sammy?" She smiled back at him, greeting him with a hug. He followed her up to Hannah's room, where she grabbed a shirt lying in the desk chair and a DVD sitting on Hannah's dresser.

She looked at Josh, who was leaning against the doorframe casually. He smiled at her, the definition of okay. She turned and looked back at Hannah's desk, which still had notes and papers lying all over it… pictures of Mike… Sam felt her chest sink. Hannah had been so innocent—so excited at the idea that Mike had actually expressed interest in her. Sam knew Hannah better than anyone deep down; other people thought she was just obsessed with Mike because he was older and sexy, but she really respected him, saw him for who he was deep down. She'd liked him for so long… and it just didn't seem fair to Sam that girls like Emily would get him.

Sam never cried, and she wished she could stop now, in front of Josh, but instead she just sat down on Hannah's bed and fell over, lying across the bed on her side, sniffling her tears. Sam felt the squishy comforter under her hands, she couldn't help but think of all the nights she had stayed over and slept in that very bed with her best friend, all the secrets they had shared only with each other late at night.

But with Hannah gone, Sam was alone. She had "friends" but they were all secondary, because of Hannah and Beth. Sam had never been good at talking about feelings, to anyone but Hannah, and she definitely didn't want to let them out in front of Josh, who she knew was hurting too.

But she couldn't hold it though she tried. The tears came and she fell down on to the bed, covering her face with her arm.

Josh looked at the athletic blond who was normally so strong and proud, for her to cry in front of anyone besides his sisters he knew that was truly hurting.

"Hey… uh… You want me to leave?" Josh called from the door, his voice calm and soothing, not uncomfortable at all. Sam wasn't sure. She wanted the solitude to be alone in her friend's room and mourn her, but she also knew that Josh might be the only other person who understood how she felt, who she could talk to about Hannah. She shook her head, and finally sat up, but kept her head turned away from him. He nodded his head slowly, methodically, and then he sauntered over to the bed, sitting down on the edge next to Sam, though not touching her. Sam had spent a lot of time at his house with him and his sisters, but they'd never been alone like this before.

She felt him sit next to her, but still couldn't look at him. "I'm sorry Josh..." was all she could manage. Josh's brow furrowed, "Sam—why are you sorry…?" he asked in a very puzzled voice. Her eyes snapped to Josh's. "I just stood there and watched them leave! Why didn't I go too? Why did I just stand there like an idiot?" She looked away from his shocked face, "It's my fault…" she muttered pathetically, voice broken, "Josh… what if I could have helped them…?" saying the thought out loud broke her, and she began sobbing, louder this time.

Josh wrapped his arm around her slowly, not sure what else to do. She couldn't take the blame for this… it was only his… He held her tightly, feeling that if he let her out of his sight, she too would be gone, and he couldn't lose anyone else. He noticed how good it felt…. to hold someone else.

"It's not your fault," came his quiet, confident voice, betraying the storm inside him for her sake, "I should have been there. I was their big brother and I wasn't even… _awake_ when they needed me," the words were a struggle to him, who usually found words so naturally. He looked down into her eyes gently, his face serious, "Sam… you were a far better big sister to them than I ever was a brother."

"Don't blame yourself for this Josh…" she muttered quietly, though sincerely. Josh looked down at her, then after a pause he lifted her head with his hand gingerly, forcing her to look at him through her watery eyes. "Only if _you_ don't blame _yourself_. Okay?" The way he looked at her, she couldn't see anything else. Only those deep eyes, hiding a whole world that she suddenly felt the uncontrollable urge to dive into… She was speechless at his words, so she merely nodded. He was suddenly very glad she was there—she needed to be told it wasn't her fault. They both needed to be told it wasn't their fault…

As she cried softly on his arm, he understood that he was holding the one other person in the world who might understand him. A glimmer of hope shone in his dark heart.

"They don't understand, Sam…"

Sam calmed her breathing, "Don't understand what?"

"What they did… how we feel…"

Sam thought for a moment. It was so hard to defend the horrible thing they'd did to her best friend but she was also a reasonable person. They didn't deserve to all be tortured by the guilt of killing their friends. "They were their friends too. They miss them too. And they all feel horrible. They aren't even talking to each other right now."

"Are you defending those assholes?" Josh's eyebrows furrowed as his voice raised inquisitively, though not aggressively.

Sam didn't miss a beat, "Look, Josh, nothing can make what they did okay… But they are dealing with this too, remember."

She knew that Josh would forgive them, just as she had eventually. He was just frustrated with the fact that he was unable to do anything to prevent what happened, and that he'd probably always hate himself for it.

He was silent for a moment, both of them staring at the wall quietly. "They didn't know them like we did."

Sam shook her head. "No… they didn't," she said simply. He sat still reverently for a while, rubbed his hand along her shoulder comfortingly. "We'll be okay, Sammy…" his voice was the sound of confidence, but he never believed a word that came out of his mouth anymore. With her there though, everything already felt infinitely better.

* * *

Sam began going over to Josh's at least twice a week, as she always had for Hannah. No one could ever replace her, but if Sam was going to have another best friend, who better than her brother? The thought made it easier for her to move on. The same way that helping his sister's best friend made it easier for Josh to move on. They helped each other in ways they themselves didn't fully understand.

Sam followed Josh to his room, where they often sat on his huge, comfy couch to watch a movie or play video games. As he walked into his room, Josh noticed he'd forgotten to put his pills away this morning. He smoothly grabbed the bottle off his desk noiselessly before Sam could enter the room.

She sat down on the couch, leaning back comfortably, as Josh casually opened the desk drawer and shoved the pills in. She turned around and laid her head on the back of the couch observantly. Inside the drawer Josh noticed one of Hannah's old notes. He froze as he picked it up, not remembering he had shoved it underneath some of the junk in that drawer, which he never used. "What's that?" Sam finally asked when he didn't say anything. Josh looked up at Sam's voice, "Oh, it's uh, it's a note… from Hannah."

Sam stood and walked over to stand next to him, reading it over his shoulder after she was sure he didn't mind. He was uncomfortably silent, but she only laughed quietly. "Of course it's about Mike," she said shaking her head. Josh nodded finally, "Yeah…" and then he seemed to change suddenly, to snap out of some trance and return to his charming self, "Was this guy the only thing she thought about?" he turned to look at Sam with a slight smile on the corner of his mouth, a slight twinkle in his eyes. He knew more than most about his sisters—he'd grown closer to them when their dad stopped paying attention to them—but there were things that sisters simply didn't tell their big brothers. These are the things that Sam often told Josh about Hannah, and he listened in utter calmness, as it slowly ate away at him inside.

Sam giggled, "Weeeell…. She thought about _some_ other stuff," she said with a smile, "Occasionally she thought about school and you know, eating and stuff. But no, most of the time it was Mike," she joked.

Josh gave a small, quiet laugh. He appreciated her humor. It was something that helped him get by. But she was still serious at the same time; she didn't ever make light of their lives or deaths in any way, but she made him feel better somehow. Josh tucked the note back into the drawer and slide it shut slowly. "He would've been lucky to have her," he said simply, but it still broke Sam's heart. She didn't cry much anymore, especially not with Josh. He had just helped her get over so much, and on top of that, they both felt the impulsive desire to be strong around each other, even though they were the two people with whom they could both be completely vulnerable around, and they knew it. The thought scared Josh to death though, and Sam just wasn't so good with feelings sometimes.

Sam leaned her head against Josh, a comforting gesture that had become common with her. They had become much more physically comfortable with each other, as Sam had spent a lot of time buried in his chest, and he'd spent a lot of time holding her in a brotherly way. They never touched each other in a deeper way, and they never questioned the way they touched each other comfortingly, but physical contact had become a natural part of their interactions, since neither of them wanted to talk sometimes. "To be honest: I always rooted for Hannah. I think Mike can do better than Emily." She said it lightly; she meant no animosity toward Emily. But Hannah _was_ her best friend.

Josh looked down at her and shook his head, "Hey. To each his own, man," he said, lifting his hands in a shrug. "I'm sure Emily has her perks." His smile was devilish. Sam shoved his shoulder roughly but gently at the same time, and he laughed at her as he stumbled, catching the corner of the desk.

"Ow…" he mumbled, holding his side, "I hope you're planning to kiss that," he said in an exaggeratedly joking voice. Sam narrowed her eyes teasingly at him. Josh's sexual jokes were meaningless and harmless, and she knew it. His teasing was just a part of who he was. She had to hide her laughter and her smile, to pretend that she didn't find them funny; she couldn't encourage him.

As he began to walk over to the couch, Sam glanced up and noticed a montage of photos of Hannah and Beth that Josh had made over his desk. He must've just made it, as she hadn't seen it before. Her heart sank again. She had known how much Josh had loved his sisters, but when she could see the proof, from a guy who was less than straight forward about talking about his feelings, it hurt like hell. She was beginning to wonder though, if enough time had passed to ask him about getting help. She wasn't sure if some of the things he did were entirely healthy for him… but she didn't know what was best. It was just that she couldn't tell anymore.

He always acted the same around her—calm and composed and okay—but then she saw things like this and was reminded that he was far from it. Of course he wasn't okay. His sisters had died in a horrible, traumatic accident of a "prank" gone wrong by her own friends, while he was unconscious and unable to do anything to stop it… It had to be eating him alive inside. She knew that people with depression rarely showed any signs of it around other people, and so she assumed, just the same as Josh's doctors and all his other friends, that it was depression that tortured him. If she'd known, had any indication that it was _anything_ else, she would've fought him tooth and nail until he got help.

But even Josh didn't know what was wrong with him. The doctors said depression, but… he wasn't sad anymore. He was… _angry_. At his friends at first, but now just… at himself. Not only for not being able to stop it but… for it ever happening in the first place. And he could push that voice aside, but… only for so long. And he couldn't stand the way it made him feel, the things it made him see, and hear…

She sat down on the couch next to him as he messed with the remote. "Hey. Have you gone to see anyone about Hannah and Beth…?" she asked casually, "Cuz, I mean, that's totally normal, that's what people are supposed to do when family members die actually, and… there's medicine that can really help with depression…"

Josh was silent for a moment, careful of what to say. "I don't... I don't need... medicine, Sam," he said solemnly.

"You don't have a therapist or anything?" Sam asked suddenly very concerned. She couldn't believe he'd never gotten any kind of help.

Josh tilted his head, lifted an eyebrow, and gave Sam a half smile, "Come on, Sam." He leaned his weight on one hip casually, "I'm _fine_ ," he assured her, his eyes nothing if not comforting and strong. He needed her to believe this about him. He needed her in his life… and he was so sure she'd leave him if she knew how fucked up he really was. And despite how much he needed her to be there for him but wouldn't admit it to himself… he wanted to believe— _had_ to believe—that _she_ needed _him_ , and he'd be what she needed.

"Thanks to you," he added quietly, his face serious. Moments like this completely caught Sam off guard. Moments like this stole her breath right out of her chest. But she hid it well, almost as well as Josh. He didn't sound flirtatious or seductive or anything really—his voice was only serious—but that's what was so different, when he was this serious. She smiled and nodded at him, "Well… sometimes I wonder where I'd be without you too…" she admitted.

Josh stepped closer to her, "Oh, come on, Sammy," he said with a smile, "You're the definition of strong. You don't need _any_ body." He envied this so much about her. And loved it all at the same time. She turned her head so he couldn't see her checks turn slightly redder. He always knew exactly what to say. _"I need_ you _…"_ she thought. Instead she spun back around and shoved her pointer finger accusingly onto his chest, "Well you better not go anywhere," she said firmly, but with a slight joking undertone.

He smiled, pushing her hand down with his. "Can I go pee?" he asked quietly, eyebrows raised waiting for an answer. Sam crossed her arms in front of her chest; she had learned to roll with his quick-witted humor flawlessly.

She looked down at her watch, "You have one minute," she answered dead seriously. He turned with a smile, as she called to him, "I'm watching you like a hawk."

"Oh please?" came his jokingly seductive voice.

* * *

Life began to return to relative normalcy for them again. Sam hung out with Josh frequently, saw the light in his eyes returning, having no idea that it was because of her, also having no idea of the darkness he became better and better at concealing. She hung out with Ashley every now and then; Ashley hung out with Chris, and Chris hung out with Josh, and occasionally, the four of them would hang out together. Mike, Jessica, Matt, and Emily were pretty distant from the others. They were only in the group because of Hannah's crush on Mike in the first place, but the others suspected that they kept their distance because of their guilt as well. For this reason, Sam made a habit of texting Mike, to make sure they were okay. She had gained a bit of respect for him after she'd seen a glimmer of goodness in the way the man had handled the situation, strong and silent to give the girls a strong post to lean on, but also deeply and genuinely sentimental deep down, in the places he didn't really let people see. He had gone to Josh without hesitation to personally offer his apologies and condolences, the only one in the group who had the nerve. It had meant a lot to Josh. And therefore Sam.

Tonight, Josh, Sam, Chris, and Ashley had been drinking together-with a bit of reluctance from Ashley, who insisted, albeit shyly, that she didn't drink. But all it took was Chris, her best friend, flashing her that irresistible smile that said, "c'mon Ash, it'll be okay, I promise," with the touch of flirtatious smirk pulling at one side of his mouth—which she was pretty sure was unintentional but that made him so fucking attractive—and she trusted him completely. She rolled her eyes as she took the bottle, though inwardly, she was swooning over that look in his gentle, calm eyes; the way he looked at her made her feel so… alive and… loved, and special. No one else had ever made her feel that way. As Chris tried to ignore how sexy Ashley looked biting her lip as she took a sip, Ashley was dealing with the fact that she probably would've jumped off a cliff if Chris told her to. It scared her, but she had never felt so connected to someone.

Ashley was sprawled across Chris's body now, both of them asleep. Chris was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, and Ashley's head rested on his thigh, her arms wrapped around his torso as if she would never let him move. Josh and Sam were sitting in the corner, laughing and smiling like they usually did. Josh reached forward to tickle Sam's sides, his fingers dancing playfully around her stomach. A genuine smile that showed his teeth lit up his face. Sam slapped at his hands, though she was too slow to actually shove them away. She giggled at Josh, her more playful side coming out when she was drunk. "Stop, stop, stop!" she argued half-heartedly, covering her sides.

She fell forward, her head colliding with his shoulder. Josh looked down at her and then noticed Chris and Ashley. He nudged Sam's side with his elbow several times, lifting her head, "Sammy, look!" he exclaimed, more excited than he should've been. She lifted her head and smiled widely at them, "Duuuddee….. they are so drunk." Josh turned his head slowly back around to look at her, letting a laugh that he tried to conceal escape through his perfect lips. "Fffft…. Not like you at all?" he came back at her, his sarcasm still flawless even drunk.

Sam lifted her hand to her head to protest. "Hey!" she exclaimed, giving him a hard shove right to the center of his chest. Her hand lingered, partly because she had limited motor skill, but also because of the muscles she could feel underneath his thin shirt. Her hand slid down his chest, and her eyebrows furrowed slightly, enjoying the feel of his well-defined abs, which she'd never truly appreciated before, though she managed to make no comment.

She could feel his muscles tighten at the way she moved her hand, but her attention suddenly shot back to Chris and Ashley. It seemed that being drunk always made people suddenly very interested in drama.

" _Look_ at them!"

Josh smiled, "Dude, we need pictures..." He began fumbling around for his phone.

"Why aren't they a thing, Josh?" She snapped her head around to look at him, suddenly very serious and confused.

Josh pointed at her enthusiastically, "Tha'ss what I'm sayin!"

Without considering whether or not she should say it, Sam burst out, "Ashley… just wants Chris to fuck her!" she howled with laughter at her suddenly blunt remark, though it was true-well, most likely. Ashley and Sam talked about Chris a lot, and Sam had basically filled in the blanks with this comment.

"I _knew_ it! But I can't… get… the little shit to man up!" Josh exclaimed through laughter as well.

Sam giggled through her teeth, trying not to laugh, but finally she leaned forward and admitted, "You are _so_ funny, Josh," her censoring capabilities long gone.

"Girl, I know," he shrugged with a satisfied expression, shrugging nonchalantly.

"And—and, you're sweet. You are _so_ sweet," she gushed, trying to sound serious but failing in her drunkenness. Even in this state, she felt so incredibly grateful for everything he'd done for her over the past months. More than she could ever tell him. Sober at least.

"Sweet?" Josh scoffed, "Pffffft, ain't nothing _sweet_ about me, honey," he put air quotes around "sweet," though his motor skills were rough at best, "I'm an _animal_ ," he lifted his hands like claws, though almost hit himself in the face in the process, "I will eat you alive."

Sam tried to ignore how sexy that sounded as he said it close to her ear in his smooth, slow voice.

"I bet I could, like… lift you with one hand… huh?"

Sam laughed loudly. "Yeah okay, try it, Mr. _Animal_." Both of them were too drunk to realize how horrible of an idea it was. Josh stumbled to his feet and slid a hand under Sam, straining himself to lift her as she laughed hysterically. Finally, he collapsed on top of her stomach. "Oh my God, you t—tried… _so_ hard. A for effort," she said, still laughing. She could smell the sweet scent of his dark soft hair in her face, and she reached out impulsively and grabbed a handful to play with.

"Mmmnngg…" Josh made a deep sound in his throat before he had time to think about what was happening. _Shit_. He sat up quickly, fumbling with his hands and accidentally groping her a bit. "Sorry," he mumbled. Normally, she might have slapped someone, but Sam didn't care a tiny bit right now.

Sam noticed he was talking about something, but she couldn't stop staring at him. Her eyes were caught on his smooth lips, the graceful and subtle way they moved, and she had the impulse to run her finger across them. They looked so soft…

"Josh—you are _so_ sexy," she said suddenly very serious, though her eyes could not focus on him.

Josh paused for a moment, eyes squinting as he tried to catch up; then he merely smiled. "Well I need to get you drunk more often. I like all the compliments," he said in a very smooth, flirty voice.

"No, seriously, I mean… I… I love you," she stuttered. It almost sounded like a question though.

Josh shook his head, surprisingly unfazed, "No you don't," he said dismissively with a smile.

"No y—you're so… _good_ … Yeah you can be… s—stubborn and ssssilly sometimes… but… but…" she searched for the words, her train of thought threatening to drift away, "I have never sssseen more _compassion_ in a man…"

Josh put a finger on her lips, "Shhhhhhh," he told her, laughing lightly, not fully able to process what she was saying, but he wouldn't believe it even if he could. Still, he put his arms on either side of her head and kneeled down on top of her, his brain screaming at him, though it was too muted from the alcohol. _"Stop it, stop it, stop it! You_ idiot _! You can't do this!"_

Sam did the logical thing to do when you're that close to a person and you're drunk. She kissed him. He didn't move for a moment, but then he leaned into it, harder than he meant to. He put his hands on the back of her neck and pulled her to him hungrily.

They could have written it off as teenagers being drunk and making out—it happened all the time. But their movements were too hungry, too eager, and they held each other too tightly…

Sam pretended she didn't remember anything about that night. It was true to some extent—they could only partly recall certain moments. She never had any idea that Josh remembered but pretended not to as well. Each assuming that they were both too drunk to mean anything they said or did, they continued to play "friends" just like they always did. Besides, Josh knew Sam was not capable of loving him—no one was. It didn't matter though—they were too important to each other to risk it.


	8. Fear

Chris descended further and further into a pit that he could no longer climb out of—he was not meant to be alone, and that had been his first mistake.

When he woke up, he never intended to drink, but sometimes only mere hours went by before the thoughts were completely unbearable. He felt it was the only way he could face the world for the first week weeks after they got home. He texted Ashley, but she hadn't come over since last week. He didn't understand how much it hurt her to see him like that, acting like a pathetic drunk like her dad… She cried herself to sleep some nights because she felt so utterly alone without him, but she couldn't find the courage to face him. She needed him to come to her, just like she always had. He didn't text Sam because he was afraid—she was just such a strong person that she was so intimidating, and he knew she would kill him. Which it turned out she didn't. Ashley told Sam she was going over to hang out with Chris but then she'd go home and sit by herself and cry and watch herself bleed. And so they both fell deeper and deeper into the pit.

He didn't even pour the bottle into a glass anymore. He just turned it up. There was only half a bottle of vodka left when Ashley called him. He'd been ignoring her texts because he just couldn't think about her anymore; it only made him feel worse. He couldn't think about anything. That's why he was drinking. Some days were just worse than others. But it scared Ashley to death when he didn't answer her.

He couldn't feel any part of his body anymore, and he couldn't think too clearly. This was usually where he stopped, but it was worse today. He wouldn't realize until the next day that he hadn't take his pills. They'd each been to their own therapist and received their own medication that would help them the most. But he wasn't used to taking medication, and he missed it a few times in the first few months.

It was only minutes later that he heard a loud, incessant knocking on his door. He didn't even think to check it for a moment. He was numb to the world around him.

"Chris! Chris!" he heard Ashley's panicked voice, and forced himself to stand and stumble to the door, taking longer than it should've. When he opened it, he saw a panicked Ashley, who threw herself at him.

"Thank God, Chris," she buried her face into his large chest and wrapped her arms around him, before standing back almost immediately to punch him in the center of his chest. "Answer your phone, Chris!" she shouted in an angry voice. "You know how worried I am when you don't…" she admitted shyly.

"Ash… I'm not gonna… kill myself," he stuttered, having no genuine belief in the words. He fell back on the couch and put the bottle to his lips again. But before he could turn it up, Ashley felt a sudden rush of boldness spark from her anger at him, and she snatched the bottle right out of his hands. "Chris, stop!" she sounded genuinely upset. "Look at you!" She took the bottle into the kitchen and poured it down the sink, sick of this. She had let him drink himself to sleep every night because she was too scared and too weak to do anything about it, but she couldn't have him turn into her father. Not Chris…

She stomped back into the livingroom and sat on the couch next to Chris, turning to face him. Her eyes shone a sparkle of terrified concern through her frustration.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself, Chris, okay? It's not good for you and it's not good for anyone else." He could hear how upset she was, but he was not able to formulate a response in his current state. "I know you're upset… we all are… but you have to find a better way to deal with it because this isn't helping anything."

"I w—was… the only one who knew about him… Who knew what he—was dealing with… I should've told someone. I should've made him get better help… I didn't know—I—I didn't know…!" He didn't know what would happen… He didn't know Josh was living in a deep, black abyss, crying out for help so far down in a place that could no longer be heard.

"Exactly, Chris, you didn't know how bad he was. It's not your fault."

"It's not my fault… for not being able to t—tell when my best friend was… drowning?! He NEEDED us, Ash! WE… could've SAVED him! US—his—FRIENDS. That's… that's ALL he needed!" Though his words were slurred and staggered, he meant every one, saying what he felt deep down for the first time outloud.

"Chris… calm down," was all Ashley knew to say, feeling a bit upset herself now... Still, she brought her hand up to his face to try to comfort him unsurely, but he grabbed it suddenly, his hands shaking.

"What if I hurt you like that Ash?" he said, suddenly intensely serious, his voice firmer but quieter, as he stared her in the eyes. He never spoke his feelings so well sober. "I ca—I—I can't do that, Ash, I can't… I will… literally end my MISERABLE excuse of a life if I ever did anything to you…"

Ashley looked at him for a couple of seconds before she, without warning and without any indication, crashed her lips into his, knocking his head back against the couch. She wasn't trying to be sexy or helpful this time. She hadn't even realized she was going to do it.

Chris felt a sudden spark of life in his numb body. Just like last time, he wouldn't remember anything except the feeling of her lips. Their lips moved together sloppily; Chris was somehow able to keep up. Ashley could only taste alcohol, but she didn't want to pull away for some reason.

After a few moments, Chris's head fell into her lap and she felt the wetness of a tear on her pants. "I'm sorry Ash… I didn't want you to see me like this…" Ashley couldn't hold it in anymore. She couldn't be strong anymore. She wasn't the strong one. She let her head fall against his and whimpered pathetically as they cried together.


	9. Remittance

It was about a week later. Ashley hadn't gone back to Chris's since she'd stormed over, worried that he'd drunken himself to death. She had felt so much better that night—thought they had shared a moment that would finally change things. She thought that she had actually helped him.

How naïve of her.

Still she would text him every night to make sure he was okay, but she couldn't forget the sound of his voice—nothing like the Chris she'd ever known—drunken, slurred, broken, instead of bold, confident, strong. She wanted to be in his arms, wanted to feel the strength and assurance of his body that she'd felt before, when they were together at the lodge. When she was terrified because she thought she was either losing her mind or about to die or both, but she had also never felt so strongly connected to him, so ready to face anything. For someone who wasn't brave like Ashley, that had meant the world to her. She wanted that back so much, but the thought of going to him was even scarier to her now. Was he really the man she thought he was…? Or was he just like her father?

Chris, alone and broken, having seemingly lost everything, was unable to find any other way to cope than drowning his thoughts away in alcohol. He needed Ashley; she was the only solution to his guilt and pain and self-loathing—she always had been. When she'd kissed him at the lodge, for a moment he forget he was trapped on a mountain with monsters, that he was going to save his friend who was almost certainly dead, that he was about to charge into almost certain death himself. For two seconds… she was all that existed in his world, her gentle touch, her small body and scared eyes, full of worry for him… Everything else was gone, like morphine melting the pain away into thin air.

He needed that now.

But he couldn't tell her—he felt that she must hate him now, and that's why she never wanted to see him, which only made his compulsion to drink worse. Then he began to hate himself for not being there for her, not being able to help her and take care of her. As if he needed another reason to hate himself. He thought of how they'd acted that night at the lodge… how he'd been her hero, how confident he'd been of himself, how he'd stood so strong and tall with her behind him, trusting him to protect her.

How he had put a _gun_ to his own _head_ for her.

He threw the bottle of vodka down on the floor forcefully, tears of frustration rolling down his face. How could he have turned into this? How could she even want to _see_ him anymore? He gripped his head with his hands and realized just how much he'd lost himself. He grabbed at his phone, typing the words intently.

 **Ash can you come over?**

Ashley stared at her phone, unsure what to do.

 **I'm sorry, Ashley, I'm so sorry… I need you…**

Her heart stopped as she read the words. Were they true? She heard Sam's voice in her head, _"You're gonna have to be brave, Ash…"_ She could do it for Chris. She could do anything for Chris.

 **Of course. I'll be there in ten minutes.**

When she rang the doorbell, he stumbled up and opened the door for her. She stood there, eyes at the ground in an unconfident, unsure pose, but then he suddenly scooped her into his arms gently. She was stiff and startled at first, but then she relaxed.

"Chris?" came her quiet voice, sounding a bit concerned. He stumbled inside with her to the couch, where he sat her down and sat next to her a bit sloppily. He looked down into her eyes, "I can't… I can't do this anymore," came his voice, high pitched and broken. "You probably never want to see me again, but… but I… have to tell you…" he trailed off, then leaned forward, as if trying to calm himself and refocus his mind on the words he wanted to say to her. She could smell the vodka on his breath, but she was mesmerized by the intense look in his eyes—she could see _her_ Chris in them.

He looked straight into her eyes, his own confident and stern, "I swore to you… that when we got out of this… we'd change. We'd be… better. More." As he spoke, she stared at him with wide, intensely curious green eyes. "And I never intended to let anything come between us... But… I was scared and stupid and I—I didn't know what to say to you, how to talk to you, like the _pathetic_ idiot I've always been when it comes to that—" he stopped, and refocused himself again, "Anyways, I've been such a fucking… _dick_." The way he said it was almost humorous, slurred from alcohol but intensely frank. He lifted his hands above his head in a gesture of sincerity, "But I'm d— _done_ drinking away my shame… I'm ready to face it with you."

She spoke in a tiny, shaky voice, "Chris… what are you saying…?" She'd asked the same thing before, but he'd never given her a straight answer then.

Chris leaned forward, "Come on, Ash—you know what I'm saying. Y—you've _always_ known…" he said with a smirk, "I love you, Ashley." She stared into his eyes. She knew he was drunk, but she could see the truth in his eyes—deep down she'd known it all along.

She punched him so hard in the chest that he fell over and yelled, "Fuck! Ow!" He leaned up painfully, grimacing, "I ssso deserved that." He had no idea where that amount of strength had come from in the small girl, but he also wouldn't understand yet just how much she needed to do that. "I was so scared that I'd lost you…" she murmured quietly through shaky breaths.

"Hey… you're never getting rid of me," he assured her gently with a tender stroke of her hair. After a pause, he whispered, "You got my back?"

She lifted her head to smile involuntarily at their old promise. "As long as you've got mine."

She leaned her head against him, eyes closed, enjoying the feel of his broad shoulder, happier than she'd been in a long time. Even happier than when she had been rescued at the lodge. Chris lifted his hand and rested it on the top of her head, stroking her hair softly again and again in a protective way. Nuzzling his face into the side of her head, he said, "I'll never let anything hurt you again. You know that right?" He hadn't been able to trust himself with that promise after the incident, but there in that moment, he had never believed anything more passionately. He had never said anything more seriously. Ashley gave a small giggle, "You're cute when you're drunk," she murmured. He was never so good with words sober. That was why they'd never acted on their clearly mutual feelings for so long.

Chris laughed in response, his somewhat dorky laugh returning. Ashley thought it was adorable, and she knew he'd come back to his geeky self soon, the awkward but somehow confident and sexy Chris she had fallen for.

As Chris's eyes struggled to maintain their focus on the gorgeous orange headed girl, they drifted down to her small but perky chest, then glossed over the toned stomach that was visible through her shirt… His inebriated mind drifted away with his eyes.

 _"I just wanna rip that parka right off her, make some snow angels. Right?"_

 _"I mean… if_ you're _not gonna bang her, maybe Mike'll take up the case…"_

 _"Just checkin' to see if there's some blood flowing down there…"_

 _"That's the sound of never kissing Ashley you PUSSY!"_

 _"You might as well let Ashley sleep with Mike. At least he's got some notches in his belt. He'll treat. her. right! FUCKING PATHETIC, Christopher!"_

Chris swallowed roughly with great effort. Was Ashley really upset at him for never satisfying her physical needs…? His intoxicated logic told him he should feel guilty and responsible for never doing the things that a man should do to the woman he loved, just like Josh had always told him… He _was_ pathetic… What kind of a man was he? Well that was going to change. He was going to be a man for Ashley.

Impulsively, he began to lean her back on the couch slowly, fumbling his way clumsily on top of her. His lips found hers and she welcomed the touch, again tasting vodka, but not so strongly this time. She sank into the couch as he moved his lips against hers, brought her hand up to grip his muscular back in as tight of a grasp as her small hands could manage. He began to trail his lips down her neck, and her body shivered involuntarily. "Ahhhh…" she let out a little noise at the feeling of his lips on her neck, having never felt such a feeling before, and collapsed as all of her muscles went weak and her eyes closed.

She kept uttering small involuntary grunts as he pressed on. His lips still on her neck, his hands slid not so gracefully under her shirt, and rested on her breasts, where he began to kneed and rub gently, though his uncoordinated touch grew rougher unintentionally. Her body went rigid at first, completely unsure what to do and how to react to the touch, but she simply couldn't deny it any longer, and she bit her lip trying to keep moans from escaping. Feeling the pressure build in his lower stomach, the growing member brush against her leg causing his breath to hitch, he began to lift her shirt and bra all at once over her head hastily.

She opened her eyes and sat up suddenly, pushing him back consequently. He stared at her, looking intensely confused and unsure. "You're not going to be drunk our first time, dork," she finally explained with a small teasing smile. What she did not mention altogether was how amazing it had felt and hungry she was for _so_ much more.

Chris began to protest, "But—I have to! I'm… I'm a pathetic excuse of a man… and I have—to make you hhhhappy…" he mumbled, and Ashley tilted her head, trying to follow.

"Chris what are you talking about?"

" _Pleasing_ you, Ashley…" he blurted out, "All this time… and I've never had the—the balls to make a move. No wonder you didn't want me…" his head fell into his hands, ruffling his already tousled blond hair.

Ashley laughed suddenly. "Are you for real?" she asked in her high-pitched mixture of amusement and disbelief.

Chris could only lift his head slowly and stare up at her confusedly, eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Who told you that? That you have to have sex with a girl to be a man?" She paused, knowing as soon as it came out of her mouth. She changed the subject before he could think about it, "It's not true, Chris," she leaned her face close to his, placing a gloved hand under his chin, "You don't have to _seduce_ me to make me fall for you. I already did… a long time ago." She smiled her adorable nervous smile. "And… I _do_ want you…" she murmured, her eyes drifting down as she traced the hand that was on his chin down his chest lightly, staring at it intentionally.

An incredible weight fell from Chris's shoulders—she would not pressure him, but let him make a move in his own time, because she was just as nervous. The ways that Ashley was perfect for him never stopped adding up. He could only smile tiredly back at her and give her a quiet giggle. He spun her around so that he held her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. "Fine… you win," he whispered jokingly in her ear with a small smile.

She giggled back at him and they cuddled into each other, Ashley pulling her legs up against her chest. They would have the ultimate relationship when it came to trust, in which no words would be needed, no broken vows or empty promises. She had already seen the test of his love. She had seen him fire a gun at his head, seen him choose to save her life over his. What more could be said? She trusted him completely, genuinely with her life, and what had been forged in fear that night in the mountains was a bond that would be impossible for anyone to break. She laid her head in his lap as he played with her hair, smiling despite everything he was going through, at the fact that _Ashley_ was in his lap.

Josh would be so proud.


	10. Scars

After three weeks, Mike was finally able to take Jessica home. He had been out of the hospital for a few days, his hand sewn up with several stitches, though he still missed a couple fingers. Other than that, he looked good as new now. His wounds had healed well, and he had only a small brace on his ankle where there was still a fracture healing.

"Hey there good lookin," he greeted her with a smile. She scowled at him, "Don't even joke about it, Michael." He raised his hands in surrender, "Okay, okay. You look good though, really," he told her sincerely, "As usual," he added flirtatiously. He had already noticed the scars forming on her forehead and side of her face when he had visited her before, but they had faded significantly now, though they were still visible.

When they got home, Mike opened the door for her and helped her out. She leaned against him as he took her inside. She could move fine now, but she was sore from not having used her legs much in the hospital. She sat down on the couch with a dramatic sigh, and he sat next to her, turning toward her. He looked her closely up and down, his head inches from hers.

Jessica merely looked down, away from him, as if she had something to hide. She took a deep breath and sat back on the couch, crossing her legs elegantly, though somehow tiredly as well. "Bring me a drink, Mike?" she looked up at him with a half hearted smile. He nodded and receded into the kitchen. "Two Mike's Hard, coming right up," he called from the kitchen. Of course he had a Mike's Hard.

"I was thinking water, Mike," Jessica replied with attitude in her voice. "Oh. Yeah. That's what I meant," Mike said quietly with a smile—he had no problems admitting his mistakes, though usually with a smile or joke. He brought her a glass and sat it down on the coffee table, then sat down facing her again, smiling at her as she drank. She removed the glass from her lips and looked at him quizzically, judgingly.

"You seem…" he tilted his head, looking for the word, "Older now…" He squeezed her hips firmly, leaning his lips into her neck close to her ear, "It's sexy," he clarified in a confident whisper.

She gave a slight scoff, "I'd say we all gained a few years of maturity up there, if nothing else," she muttered with a hint of sarcasm. "Being almost eaten by a supernatural monster makes things… different." She stared straight ahead of her, "Puts things in perspective…" her voice trailed off.

"Hey," Mike leaned in front of her face, stroked a hand through her hair, "We're all back now, safe and sound."

"Not all of us…" Jessica murmured. Mike hung his head in defeat.

"Are we even… the same people?" she asked absent-mindedly, more thinking out loud than anything.

Mike looked up at her, "Hey. Of course we are. I'm still me," he placed his hands on her upper stomach, drifting upward, "And you're still you," he leaned closer to her, pushing her down on her back.

"No Mike…" Jessica protested, swiping his hands away and crossing her arms, though there was a tiny hint of… regret? Mike sat up, dared not push Jessica, as usual. "Come on, Jess, it's been three weeks…" he muttered, rubbing his arm absently.

She looked at him, "Well I'm sorry if I'm not in the mood, Michael," she said with attitude, lifting her hands in surrender. "I just need some time to get over being dragged through the woods by a monster, is all."

"Hey, guess who came after the man-eating monster—with the unstoppable arsenal of a shotgun and a lantern?" Mike pointed out, with a small smile. Jessica leaned on his chest, giving a quiet, pleased laugh, "Well… that was very… sexy of you," she whispered in an alluring voice herself, tracing circles on his thin undershirt with her nails. Mike made a low noise of pleasure. She leaned up to kiss his lips lightly. He smiled his warm, charming smile when she pulled away. In the moment that she was taken from him, all he was thinking was he had to get her back—it didn't matter how—he just had to get her back; he didn't have time for anything else. But that didn't mean that he wouldn't enjoy every bit of the perks that it got him after the fact.

"I think it's time for a reward, huh?" he whispered lowly in her ear. She smiled at how incredibly sexy he was, but turned away, scooting a few inches away on the couch. "Stop it, Michael," she warned, though in a quieter voice than usual. Mike's eyebrows furrowed. He finally realized something was wrong. "Jess, what's wrong?" he asked, wrapping a hand around her waist.

She crossed her arms and looked away from him. He reached out and gently took her hands, uncrossing them and pulling them toward him slowly, as if trying to unravel her inside and out. Her hands were rough and calloused, and there were scars running down the underside of her arms.

"It's just physical proof that I can never be the same person…" she muttered quietly. Mike pushed her hair back from her forehead, and stroked the small scar there, an odd reaction to Jessica. She shrugged his hand away frustratedly.

Mike gave a quiet chuckle, to which she spun her head around to look at him, eyes narrowed. "See, that's the thing with girls like you. You're beautiful and sexy and you have all the natural gifts, yeah, but… that's not all you are," he said with alarming clarity. He slipped an arm around her waist again, and slowly pulled her toward him. She was too dumbstruck at what he was saying to protest. "You see, I have had some… experience in this area," he raised his eyebrows, pointing out what she already knew, "And you all think guys don't notice. But we do. We're just too simple-minded to complain," he admitted with a shrug. "Do you think I don't see through you, Jess, you think I don't know how you use your looks to get all the things you want?" every word he said was in a loving tone, with a smile. He brushed a piece of long, blond hair behind her ear, "But you have no reason to be so insecure. You're… beautiful inside, too." He slid his hand under her shirt to find the scars hidden there, tracing them softly with his finger. "And now you can show the rest of the world too."

She stared at him the whole time with the same one eyebrow raised expression. She should've been mad at him for having the audacity to say those things to her… But she wasn't. She… needed his words. Because everything he'd said was true, she realized. And she needed him.

She suddenly shrugged out of her shirt as Mike watched approvingly. It was rare for her to be so straight forward. She threw herself onto his lips and he immediately wrapped his arms around her, loving her now more than ever. "And hey. I don't want to hear anything about your scars, okay?" he reminded her with raised eyebrows, lifting his three-fingered hand. "Hey, at least maybe you'll get discount manicures." He stopped trying to figure out whether some of the things she said were jokes or not anymore, and just played along, hoping they were, "Oh girl, you know how I love that acrylic pink nail polish."

She giggled seductively, lowering her head in approval of his sense of humor. He shoved her pants off and his hands began to explore every new inch of skin, every scratch and scar on her smooth legs. He moved his fingers up her body slowly, his touch incredibly appealing, causing noises to escape Jessica's mouth as he smiled against her neck. As much as she was always in control, she had to admit (though only to herself, never to him) he was good. Very good.

She pulled his shirt over his head and began kissing his strong chest, noticing the scratches on his chest as well. She didn't think she'd like scars, but they were the marking of his devotion to her, and nothing else could have been sexier. He pushed her down on the couch and she smiled alluringly up at him as he took command of her, just as she liked.

As he began unfastening her bra, he smirked, "Ohhhh _hell_ yeah…"


	11. Pleasure

Chris and Ashley sat next to each other on the couch, watching Ashley's favorite drama. Chris had opted for his favorite horror movie, but Ashley did not do horror, though she gave in for him sometimes. Though she just spent most of the movie behind his back squealing and punching his shoulders.

He had thrown all of his alcohol out for Ashley and hadn't even thought of it since. He still hurt the same inside—but he had her, and that's all he needed.

They both laughed at something in the movie, and Chris looked sideways at Ash, adorable with her mouth open in laughter. He noticed how beautiful she was in the dark, the light from the TV bouncing off her round face, red hair, and green eyes. He was forcibly reminded of all the times since he'd been friends with Ashley that he'd caught himself thinking about that body, those small but perky breasts, that perfect, round ass, those toned abs and small hips... And how he'd go home-or to the bathroom sometimes even if it was bad-and touch himself to those irresistible thoughts, and how he'd feel so ashamed afterward. She was his friend. She didn't want him that way...

And now... he _could_ have her. He could do all those things he'd always dreamed about... But it didn't seem right. Not without the one who supported him, who always encouraged him to go for it-the one who he wouldn't be in this situation without.

Chris distracted himself with Ashley, a common technique he'd learned, and lifted his hand to run it through her hair, from her bangs to the tips slowly. Ashley closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. She then grabbed it in hers, and brought it to her face, kissing the large, strong hand and admiring the way the firelight illuminated the veins. She placed a hand on his hard chest, then started making slow circles with one finger. He looked down. "Mmmm… whaddya tryin to do, Ash?" he smiled both nervously and adorably at her.

She shrugged lightly, innocently. She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, "Just making sure you're still here." Chris gave a small chuckle under his breath, "Where am I gonna go?" Ashley shrugged without looking at him, her hand trailing down his stomach absently, "Just making sure… _all_ of you… is here." She paused for a moment, realizing she'd spoken without thinking. Were her walls falling down around him….? The thought terrified her.

Chris's breath hitched, but before he could become excited, his hand fell from hers. He heard Josh's voice in his head. _"You've laid all the groundwork. You've been a perfect gentleman. Now you come in for the KILL."_ Josh was the whole reason that they were together… And then he had to go and hit him, say such cruel, ruthless things to him… after everything his best friend did for him… it was the last thing Josh would ever remember of him…

"I didn't even tell him bye, Ash…." She was very confused by the sudden change in conversation at first, but she understood immediately. She knew Josh would be very heavy on Chris's mind for a long time… "The last time I saw him…. I hit him…" his voice broke abruptly.

Ashley made a small grunting noise. "Chris, you _have_ to stop blaming yourself for this. You _have_ to move on."

"No, Ash…" he came back immediately, shaking his head, not looking at her, " _You don't understand_ …"

" _What_? What don't I understand…?" she asked, a bit exasperated.

"Oh _God_ , Ash…" He put his face in his hands and tried to stop his tears. He hated her seeing him like this, but the thoughts just came on so suddenly.

"What?" she asked more concernedly, her eyebrows raised.

Chris tried to speak finally, but his voice was broken and shaky. "Sam… the other day… she told me Josh had told her, that night… that—that we needed some sort of 'traumatic event' to 'push us into each others' arms…' She said the look in his eyes…" He trailed off, his breath caught in his throat, unable to continue. Ashley still looked confusedly at him. "Don't you get it? He wanted us to be _happy!_ … ALL OF THAT just to set his best friend up with the girl of his dreams…"

Ashley had been very upset and frustrated at Josh that weekend, but only because she didn't have the same understanding of him that Chris and Sam did. And while she'd been shocked and sad to find out that Josh had died in the mines, she couldn't help feeling somewhere in the back of her mind that he deserved it. She was not a forgiving person, and she had a bit of a vengeful spirit in the first place. But then Sam had explained to Chris and Ashley everything that she'd seen that night… Josh's medical records, his texts to his doctor... Chris knew he was on medication, but he thought it was just for depression… Sam had managed to find in one night the secrets that he'd kept from his best friend for years. It was lucky that she had been the one to find them. Would anyone else have thrown them away without even reading them…?

But no, she knew it wasn't luck. She knew he had intentionally left them there for her to find, whether he was in control of himself when he did it or not. Some part of him wanted her to know. She just wished she could unlearn all of it. What good it did her now. It was simply weight that was too much for her to bear.

Ashley nodded slowly, put her small arms around him and pulled her to him, "He was so much more than we gave him credit for, Chris…" she whispered sympathetically, truly meaning it, feeling that she could relate to him so much more after she knew the truth. "I know how much he meant to you…" Chris always used to talk about Josh until it drove Ashley crazy. Now she just wish Chris had his best friend back, to make him whole again… She felt a warm tear on her cheek at the thought of losing someone like that… and she unintentionally squeezed him tighter.

"He needed us, Ash…" he would call during these breakdowns.

"I know Chris… I know…" was all Ashley could say, subtle sadness causing her voice to fall away. She would never understand how he felt, she'd never feel that same guilt—but she knew that, and she did all she could for him to be there and help. Helping him deal with his guilt and grief helped her deal with her own trauma.

"I left him there to die!" he snapped suddenly.

Ashley remained calm, though stern, "No you didn't! You went after him. You did everything you could Chris."

Chris harbored guilt that she would never understand for Josh, but she harbored guilt that he would never understand for Hannah and Beth… she was just thankful he never brought it up. She knew he never had in the year before because he didn't want to face the thought that she was involved with that horrible night… and she was just as well forgetting it with him. They had to look to the future, or the past would destroy them. It was unspoken, but they both knew this.

Chris rested his head on her chest, not sure what to do now. He wrapped his arms around her back and held onto her, his hands flexing and relaxing over and over as he tried to stabilize himself, stop his body from shaking and steady his breath. A lot of their most emotional healing moments were spent with no words… There were simply none that would suffice. Ashley let him hold her to calm himself, let him be totally vulnerable, completely open, around her. As much as Ashley needed Chris, Chris needed Ashley too. She had no idea how much he needed her.

He finally lifted his head to look at her again, giving her his usual half smile. She giggled, so happy to see that he was able to slowly return to his old self. She poked the tip of his nose and he laughed at her. She leaned closer to him and then raised her hands to grab his glasses, slowly sliding them off his face. He watched her with slightly wide eyes, raised eyebrows. She tried not to laugh at his shock. She was much sexier than she realized. She looked down, unsure what to do now, but Chris filled the gap himself, shoving his lips to hers, knocking her head back a bit before she pushed back, bringing her hands up to behind his head to quickly grab handfuls of his hair. Chris let out a whimper, to which Ashley pulled back and smiled at him with raised eyebrows, "What was _that_?"

Chris's cheeks reddened, "I… haven't exactly… done this before…" he admitted slightly defensively, though also slightly embarrassed.

Ashley laughed quietly and leaned her forehead against his, "Well… me neither…"

Chris's face lightened, "Really? But… you're so good at it…" he admitted awkwardly. He looked down, so close he could see down her low cut shirt.

She gave a mixture of a scoff and a chuckle. "Well… thanks… I try?" she smiled at him, their faces still touching. "I don't make you think of Josh anymore…?" She immediately regretted it. Chris sighed, looked down, reluctant to answer. "… I'm sorry…" _Why did I say that?_

"I mean… It'll always be there, Ash…" he mumbled into her chest. Ashley thought for a moment.

"But Chris… if he went through all of that just for us to be together…" she chose her words carefully, "Then we should _be_ together. This is what he wanted isn't it…?" She lifted his chin to look at her, hoping he understood what she was saying. His eyes widened again, "Ah—y—yeah!" he stuttered awkwardly. But she was right… this is what he always wanted for Chris. He wouldn't let his actions be in vein.

With a smile that she had hoped to be alluring, but honestly had no idea what she was doing, she leaned back on the couch, and he followed her, pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it against the wall, and positioning himself on his knees above her. But he misplaced his knee and slipped right off the couch, slamming his head onto the edge as he fell in the floor. Ashley couldn't help bursting out into laughter. Chris sat up immediately, "Ugh... I can't see shit without my glasses…" he murmured, embarrassed. Ashley merely continued laughing at him, watching him roll over and struggle for a bit, holding his side where he'd hit the side of the couch. "You need a hand there, graceful?" she asked teasingly. Chris tried to glare at her, but he couldn't help smiling. "Chris, I have to say, if you're trying to be sexy with me, I hate to break it to you—you're at like a one right now. I don't know if you've noticed but… you're down there… and I'm up here," she continued teasing him. "Oh yeah?" Chris said, grabbing her leg. Ashley slid off the couch with a squeal, her head colliding with Chris's.

"Ow!" Ashley rubbed her head, and sat up, both of them staring at each other for a moment. "Oh my God we're hopeless," Ashley finally said. Chris smiled and hung his head in mock shame. She stared at his bare chest now, "Still this is… nice," she commented, nodding her head in approval.

Chris began flexing in his jokingly over confident way, nodding his head in agreement, "I know… I'm a beast." He almost replicated his "bad ass" dance that he'd given Sam at the shooting range before Ashley shoved his shoulder, knocking him down on the floor on his back. "Ow!" he said. She rolled her eyes, "Oh shut it you big baby." She climbed on top of him and began kissing him, trailing kisses all the way down to his muscular chest. He gave quiet groans and she smiled to herself in approval.

She leaned up and stared down at Chris. She had him right where she wanted him, underneath her, trapped, all hers… As usual, her soft, timid face betrayed her mischievous thoughts. Chris swallowed hard at the sight of her sitting on top of him… He couldn't even bring himself to smile, he was fighting himself so hard.

Almost involuntarily, his hand found its way hungrily onto her stomach, where her small but defined abs were visible through her shirt. He'd always been attracted to her body—so small and lean, and yet unbelievably defined and fit. He found himself often staring at her stomach when she'd wear tight shirts, wanting to rip them off, though he wouldn't admit this to himself.

He stroked his hand up and down slowly, his breathing rugged, and then slid it under her shirt slowly. She smiled at the way he appreciated her body, the affect it had on him, and then the feeling of his large, warm hand. He let out a shaky breath at the feeling of her toned stomach, bare, underneath his skin… They had always been awkward with physical contact, sitting with their shoulders touching occasionally or careful hugs being the closest they ever dared to get… leaving most of their bodies unexplored… Even now, when the mutual desire was clearly there, Chris was having a hard time acting on the impulses he'd kept under control, buried deep down, for so long…

Ashley stared at him though, waiting to see what he'd do. Finally, Chris looked up at her, almost as if for approval, to which she nodded slowly, almost unsurely if it hadn't been so immediate. Chris grabbed at the bottom of her shirt and lifted it over her head, Ashley lifting her hands to help. Ashley could feel Chris's body twitch beneath her, and he momentarily froze at the sight of her in her bra. Which made Ashley bring her hands up to her chest self-consciously, crossing her arms in front of it, embarrassed. Understanding, Chris took her hands in his and pulled them away, "Ashley you are so much sexier than I ever could've imagined…" he assured her, "And… and believe me, I… I did…" he muttered.

A big smile grew on her face, "Really…?"

" _Yes_."

"Well…" she put her hands flat on his chest, shrugged lightly, "You're not so bad yourself…" She began to shift her weight, lower herself on him and lean down so that she had more access to him, but as her body slid over his lower half, she detected the massive growth, and felt his whole body suddenly go rigid as she moved against it. He made a sudden, sharp noise, as she continued moving, "A—ash!" He had no time to warn her as the fluid came rushing out of him, leaving a wet spot on his pants.

He was still riding the high as she stared at his pants and then back at him.

"Aau _uuuug_ hhhh…" He looked down at his pants, the glaze in his eyes leaving. " _Shit_."

Ashley blinked, frozen, unsure what to do. "I'm sorry!" Chris stuttered.

"Sorry—s—sorry—I—I didn't—!" Ashley stuttered at the same time.

"I told you you're too… _fucking_ sexy…" Chris hissed into his hands, not able to look at her face, his voice a mixture of shame and frustration.

Ashley still sat still, awkward and unsure, her eyes wide and her body stiff, as if she was afraid to move at all now. Suddenly, Chris knew he had to fix this. He would not fail anymore.

He looked up at her abruptly, washed the frustration off his face, replaced it with confident allure, "Hey…" he whispered in the sexiest voice he could summon for her, his eyes finding hers, "I'll make it up to you…" he promised intently. He was already learning to be more comfortable with himself for her. All that mattered was making Ashley happy.

Ashley swayed a bit absently at his confident words. She smiled at him, kissed his jaw, "I think… I can help…" she responded trying her best to be sexy for him as well, as she began to unzip his pants. His mouth opened slightly but he soon closed it.

 _Stay calm, Chris. You can handle this._

 _The fuck are you talking about?! ASHLEY is about to be IN YOUR PANTS._

The feeling of her small hands against his already firm again member made him groan. But once she slid a hand inside to pull it out, she froze, and stared at it.

She blinked. She realized had no idea what to do.

But it felt so… warm and smooth. She liked it.

She smiled at the noise he made, snapped out of it, and realized she wanted to hear him make that noise again. Over and over. It was suddenly all she wanted, her deepest, darkest desire, to hear her cute, innocent, awkward, blond-haired little Chris scream her name as he made that face all night long...

She slid the fingerless gloves she always wore down onto her wrists, but did not remove them, and held his member gingerly, beginning to stroke it gently, up and down, very slowly. Within mere seconds, it was solid hard underneath her fingers, and she smirked at him. His eyes were staring blankly back at her though, lost beneath the way it felt for her to touch him that way…

She forced herself to stop, knowing Chris wouldn't be able to. As she let go, Chris's body went limp and his head collapsed onto the bed. He was breathing incredibly hard now, and she placed a hand in the center of his damp chest to feel it rise and fall rapidly. He looked up at her mysteriously innocent face, though he knew what she was capable of now and he could never go back.

"Good?" she asked quietly, without looking at him.

A short, simple, "ugh," was all he could manage.

But then he suddenly responded with action rather than words. He leaned up and wrapped his arms around her small frame, fingers attacking her bra. He fumbled for several seconds before she giggled and reached behind, unfastening it effortlessly underneath his fingers. He sighed. He couldn't do anything right. No wonder he'd never made a move.

Filled with an intense desire to redeem himself—to do something to make _her_ feel good—he put his hands on her shoulders and laid her back on the bed, as she let out an involuntary squeak. Determined, he kicked his pants and underwear the rest of the way off, and then leaned down, beginning to lick her breasts. Ashley let out a long "mmmmmm…." as he kissed and licked, exploring her soft skin.

As he continued, his stomach and groin growing warmer, he reached down flawlessly with his large hands and unzipped her pants in one motion, then slid them down to her knees with her underwear. He leaned up and let out a long breath at the sight. Ashley's legs came together involuntarily, embarrassed. He put his hands on her thighs and spread them back apart gently. He put one hand in between her legs, and she yelped at the novel feeling. He looked up at her, his face scared. "Are you okay?" he asked suddenly concerned. She nodded, "Continue…" she muttered expectantly under her breath.

His head snapped back to his task, and he slid his hand down onto the opening and pushed it inside eagerly. She closed her eyes and gasped sharply, her breath coming out unevenly. "I'm sorry!" She waved a hand at him without looking, "Keep going!" He moved his finger and she responded with, "Ahhhh!" Just looking at her face, eyes closed, head back, made his member twitch against her leg. He was going to come all over her again if he did this any longer. His face set with determination, he pulled his finger out and positioned himself so that he was at her entrance.

They hadn't even bothered with moving—it had all happened so fast and they'd gotten so caught up in it… They were still splayed on the floor in front of the couch, like animals who didn't care where or how it happened, only that the deed was done. On the one hand, there was Jessica complaining about a fire and "mood lighting," and then there was Chris and Ashley, throwing themselves at each other on the hard floor.

She watched him curiously as he positioned himself, trusting he knew what to do, though she looked a little scared.

"I won't hurt you, Ash," came his voice, suddenly quiet and reassuring, strong and confident. She looked up into his eyes, saw the man that had saved her life many times over, and sighed happily, "I know." She meant it.

He took a deep breath and slid himself into her as slow as he could. "Chris Chris Chris Chris!" She gritted her teeth for a moment, but then he was all the way in. "Agghhh-aaahhh…!" came Ashley's voice as she squirmed, unable to stay still from the incredible new feeling that sent heat waves through her body.

She suddenly felt a hand on her stomach, and looked up to see Chris's eyes closed. "No," he managed through his gritted teeth, "Don't… don't move." Her eyebrows furrowed, "Huh?" she unintentionally shifted her weight, tensed her muscles, and he inhaled sharply, "Augh! Stop!" he thrust upward involuntarily, "Just don't… Just… give me a second…"

Ashley understood, and with a blush, complied. He breathed deeply for a moment, letting his body calm down. "Is it all the way in?" she asked suddenly. He nodded. "It's bigger than I thought it'd be," she comment simply. He opened his eyes to look at her, couldn't help smiling. "Wow, thanks," he murmured jokingly through a laugh he couldn't contain.

But at the feeling of the movement inside her, he suddenly groaned again. "Oh _fffuck_ Ash…" He began to pull back out, and she whimpered uncontrollably.

"Auuuhhhhhh…." He gave a long, deep groan at the feeling of her amazingly tight walls against his member, and at the adorable and sexy sounds Ashley was making. He began to move faster eventually, naturally speeding up as it felt better and better. Ashley's hands shot out from her sides as he sped up, reaching up to grab a couch cushion with hands clasped so tightly she couldn't feel her fingers. But she couldn't feel anything else right now anyways, beside _her_ Chris _inside_ her.

As he reached a rhythmic speed, his breathing devolved into panting, grunting with each thrust. "Ah… ah… ah…!" Ashley exhaled sharply through her teeth, her curious green eyes wider than ever. One of her hands reached for his golden hair, grabbing the tuft in the front that made him so cute. He looked up and stared at her as she held onto him like it was a leash, and then he shoved both his hands forward onto her breasts, as if in the same desire for control.

Their bodies crashed together over and over; Ashley held tight to the couch and to his hair, and moaned under her breath, "Chris…. oh Chriiiss … ohhhh Chriiiiiiisss!" The sound of her voice saying his name that way as she held him somewhat roughly, and watching her body bounce against his, meant he only made it about twenty thrusts before he came inside her, without any warning at all. "Oh God Ashley!"

Her body spasmed against his in response as he came, pushed over the edge by the way he called her name helplessly in surrender to pleasure. She wrapped her arms around him suddenly and held on as tightly as she could as she screamed, her face in the crevice of his muscular collarbone.

For several seconds, they were both still and silent, the only sound their intense panting. Chris had rolled off her and laid on his back, but then Ashley suddenly began giggling and rolled over on her side, burrowing into his soaked chest, bringing her arms up to cover her face. Chris looked down at her, eyebrows furrowed confusedly. "Wh… What?" he asked.

"Chris that was AMAZING," she burst out all at once, looking up at him with wide eyes. Chris smiled, fake bowing over and over, "Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all night."

Ashley raised one eyebrow at his comment, tilting her head suggestively. She put her hand on his chest and then began to slide it down his body, painfully slowly.

"Oh yes you will."


	12. Reunion

The seven of them had agreed to meet up in a month, since they'd known it would be impossible before then, after they'd all had time to physically heal and Jessica and Mike made it out of the hospital. They had been required to see a psychiatrist, and were all offered the same medication for "hallucinations" and "mental trauma," (none of the doctors believed that the monsters they'd faced were real, but at least the pills helped them with recovering from their trauma a bit), but Chris and Sam required a prescription for depression on top of that. Most of them texted each other every day without fail ("Fucking psychiatrist gave me crazy pills –Mike" "You're not taking them are you? –Sam" "Hell no –Mike"), but now they needed time to catch each other up on everything that happened. To comfort each other each in their own ways. And for some of them, to mourn.

So they rented a hotel suite for a night. It was a bit awkward at first for everyone to be standing in the same room together, each dealing with the shame or the pain in their own ways, but eventually, they opened up to each other, and they grew to appreciate each others' company.

Jessica noticed that Emily had been sitting next to Matt, on the edge of the couch, and hadn't really said more than a greeting to any of them all night. She turned her head to them. "Really?" Everyone else grew quiet. "You're gonna be like this still…? You're just gonna sit over there in the corner, Em? Just pretend you're still better than all of us?" Emily said nothing, not looking up. She knew Jessica, and she had been waiting for it since they all got back in the same room together. Jessica shifted her weight, leaning on one hip sassily, "Well we're not going to take that anymore. Not after everything that's happened…" Jessica trailed off. Even her voice sounded different. It was less edgy, less harsh, quieter. It didn't contain the bitchiness, though the attitude was still there.

Matt looked up at her, his eyes sad and gentle but yet still stern. "Jess… just… go easy on her, okay? She's been through a lot…" The last thing he wanted to do was start anything, but he also knew that Emily was not what everyone thought she was, that she was dealing with this too, even if she was too proud to show it.

" _I've_ been through a lot, Matt. We all have." Everyone else stood still. Chris and Ashley sat cuddled together on the couch, both very unconfrontational. Sam just stood frozen, trying not to make the situation worse, but honestly irritated at the fact that they were falling back into their old ways of teenage bitchy drama so soon.

"I know," Matt quickly reassured her, no malice in his voice, "That's not—you know that's not what I meant…"

Jessica nodded, unsure of how to go on. "Well, if we don't start being better friends to each other… people are just gonna keep getting hurt…" her voice trailed off. She was the only one willing to speak up about it. She'd always been the outspoken one. Mike stroked Jessica's back with his fingers in understanding and support of her words. Sam nodded, finally adding simply, "We owe that much to Josh."

Josh's words flashed through Chris's brain. _"I'm a_ healer _, man!"_ It's not how he'd intended, but he did bring them all together in the end… in more ways than he'd realized. _"Can't we all just get along…?"_ He always hated it when they fought; he'd always been the peacemaker, the one to stand up and break the fights apart. Chris nodded, "Yeah, guys, he'd be disappointed to see us still upset at each other," he said quietly, convincingly. Everyone turned to look at Chris. Even Emily looked up. "I know that it's hard with all of us being together like this but… the least we can do is use this… situation to make us better. For Josh."

Emily nodded very subtly, "Yes… you're all right, okay?" she finally said, in a bitter voice, her head down. "Just… give me some time." She held up her hands in surrender. "I saw Beth's _head_ down there—" her voice caught in her throat, and everyone stared at her, mouths almost open, at the sound of sadness and regret and compassion in her voice, "And I… I did that to her…" Everyone shifted uncomfortably. They had never seen Emily like this. Had never known that she felt this way.

Jessica slipped out of Mike's arms and went over to sit next to Emily, who looked up at her, but then curled back into Matt. She was ashamed of them seeing this. "Emily, it _wasn't_ you. You know that…" she was talking only to Emily now; it was time to bring her charade to an end, "It was me." Emily's head shot up, "Don't you dare—" she began to protest, but the look on Jessica's face was too real. On all of their faces. Everything had to change now, for all of them, in order to move on. Jessica was ready to admit her mistake. She was a year older and wiser, but it felt like twenty. Mike finally leaned forward, "Hey, don't forget about me…" he murmured, raising a hand and then rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably with it. "Me too…" Ashley muttered, almost too quiet to be heard. "Ash…" Chris whispered, wrapping an arm around her. She buried her head into his shoulder. Matt sighed, "And I was the one holding the _camera_ , Em," he reminded her, "We all made a mistake. But we have to forgive ourselves or… people will just keep getting hurt, like Jessica said…" Emily looked around the room as they joined in to collectively claim the blame for what she'd been carrying for her best friend for so long… She was speechless. For once in her life.

Jessica put a hand on her best friend's back, "It's time to forgive and forget, guys," she said, though they were all thinking the same thing deep down. There would never be any forgetting. But with everything that happened recently, and with each other... they were finally beginning to feel that forgiving might be an option.

The room held a strange air of new beginnings for the whole group. Where the horrible events of one year ago had slowly torn them apart until tensions were at an all-time high, the horrible events of _this_ year actually had the opposite effect, breaking down all the bonds and creating a new one, an immense feeling of trust among them all, and a mutual desire amongst all of them to help each other recover.

Sam turned to look at Chris delicately, and he simply nodded back at her. She knew it didn't matter as much to them, but she wanted to explain to Mike, Jessica, Matt, and Emily what she learned about Josh. They had to know. Much to their pleasure—and shock—everyone seemed able to understand and forgive him. They had had enough time to recover from the shock and see things rationally. Jessica had no reason to be upset with him in the first place, neither did Mike once he realized his stupid mistake of blaming Josh for Jessica's death.

Most of them had of course attended Josh's funeral a month ago—those that could—but they were not all in attendance and the ones that were were too broken and traumatized to do or say anything and still lacked total understanding of all that had even happened. So now that they were all together again, they all agreed to go back to his grave together to pay their proper respects.

They all stood around the grave, large and elegant, the words "Joshua Washington - Beloved Son and Brother" above a large cross. They had never found the body, of course, but Mike was testament to his death. There was an uncomfortable silence for a minute.

"Should we say something…?" Ashley finally suggested unsurely.

Sam nodded, and stepped forward slightly. "Josh…" she exhaled a deep breath, "We want to ask your forgiveness. We were horrible to you, we didn't mean the things we said, and we… definitely didn't mean for this to happen to you…" She took a moment but remained calm; she had an amazing ability for this. "And we want you to know none of us blame you for anything… And we miss you." Ashley leaned her head on Sam's shoulder. There was a moment of silence.

"I am _so_ sorry, bro… How could we fuckin _leave_ you there?" Chris's voice was hoarse and so full of pain it made them all uncomfortable. "And I shouldn't have hit you and… Sam basically covered it all… but…" He paused, collecting his thoughts, "You were my best friend… It'll never be the same without you, Cochise." He kneeled down, more of an involuntary action, as his knees gave out, and put his head in his hands. Ashley kneeled behind him, wrapping her small arms around his large chest.

Emily shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to do or say anymore. She just looked at her shoes. Matt wanted to speak, but wasn't sure what to say that Chris and Sam hadn't said. Jessica simply stood with her head hung, holding Mike's hand. Mike spoke up. "I'm… I'm sorry, man. I was… really mean to you…" She leaned her head against him. No matter how she acted to other people, no one could deny how much she cared for Mike. Especially now. "I was just so upset, and it was stupid, and—and I can't take any of that back, but I'll regret it forever." His voice was firm, unwavering, the strongest one there, but still sincere. No one would doubt that. "I just hope you're at peace. Because you didn't deserve to die." He was able to frankly say what everyone knew.

"You were one of the best people I knew," Matt added. They all agreed. After the smoke cleared and they all understood Josh better, they could see how loving, how kind, and how compassionate he was. The tragic irony was that they could only see it now, when it was too late for anything but regret.

Chris was crying softly now, and Sam stood just behind him and Ashley. "You had such good friends…" Sam murmured, eyes sad and outlined in glimmering liquid, but still strong, "We were all here for you, Josh, we still are… We just want you to know that." There was a moment of solemn silence again, the quiet sound of crying the only thing that was heard.

"I love you Josh. It was so selfish of me never to tell you that." And then Sam lost it. Her voice hitched and she bowed her head, hiding her tears. Mike turned to her, and lifted a hand to rub Sam's back. He'd been with her more than anyone that night, and he'd seen her reaction to his death—he knew it wasn't how she really felt. She turned her head away from him slightly. She didn't like anyone to see her like this.

They had all knew how _he_ felt about _her_ —it was obvious—but to hear her finally admit that she felt the same way, after it was too late… the finality and the tragedy affected them all emotionally. As Sam fell to her knees next to Chris and Ashley, Jessica turned away, in tears. Mike wrapped his arms around her, encompassing her completely, exactly the strong tower she needed. Finally, Emily stepped forward, took her hands out of her pocket, and put her hand on his grave cautiously. She closed her eyes and bowed her head, "I'm so sorry, Josh… for what happened to you, and to your sisters…" Her voice was as sincere as any of them had ever heard, held a sense of dark finality. With that, she turned and walked away. She couldn't stand their looks right now. Matt followed her loyally.

That was the last thing that was said. Who could follow Sam's tragic confession and Emily's grave apology? Jessica squeezed Mike's hand and then went to follow Emily, hoping she would talk to her like she always used to. Hoping their relationship wasn't ruined in this stupid little charade. Mike watched her go for a moment in understanding, then turned back, lightly placing his hands in his pockets. Chris and Ashley finally stood, Sam right behind them. The three of them hugged each other tightly before Chris pulled away and told Sam that if she ever needed anything to let them know. Sam only nodded and whispered thanks with a forced smile. Chris and Ashley sauntered away.

After a moment, Mike dared to approach Sam cautiously, his hand lingering in the air. He had never been much for voicing affection, but then they were all pretty changed recently. He wasn't sure what to do, but wanted to show Sam he was there for her. They had been through a lot together that night, and he felt he understood her much more than he ever had. She would've said the same about him.

"Hey, ah… If you need anything, just… let me know," he said gently, placing his hand on her back. She started slightly at the touch at first, still looking away, but then she spun around and put her head in Mike's chest, sobbing loudly. He put his arms around her affectionately, leaning his head against hers. He _was_ , on the other hand, good at showing affection physically. And not just in the sexual way. His body was warm and comforting. He spoke better with actions anyways. He rubbed his hand up and down her back.

Jessica saw their embrace and narrowed her eyes for a moment, but quickly let it go. She was still too happy with Mike for chasing her through a forest with monsters and wild animals just to save her to be upset at him for any reason.

Mike stood with Sam, gently rubbing her back, until she stopped crying.


	13. Reconciliation

**Author's Note: The flashback section of this chapter was written by my amazing friend Kayla, who took it upon herself as a challenge to create sympathy for Emily where most people can't. She doesn't have a Fanfiction account unfortunately or I'd link it :/**

Emily plopped down in the passenger seat of the car, slamming the door shut behind her. She didn't want anyone to see her like this. She had to hold her life together; she had to stay on top. No one could know what her life was really like, what she really felt on the inside. That would ruin everything. Only her best friend and partner in crime Jessica knew her deepest secrets, though Matt was learning slowly.

Jessica ran to catch up with her, glancing sideways at Matt as she passed. "Give us a minute," she told Matt, who simply nodded reverently and went to lean against a nearby tree, knowing the two needed their privacy, and hoping that they could make amends, for everyone's sake.

Jessica slid in the driver's seat of the car next to Emily, who had her head in her hands to hide the tears. Before she could think of what to say, she heard Emily's desperate, broken whine through her sobs, "…. Why did you stay…?" she demanded, her hoarse, cracking voice a mixture of frustration and confusion, more raw emotion than she'd shown in a whole year. But she let it all out in front of Jessica, the only person she trusted, even if she'd ruined everything.

After a short silence, Jessica sighed. "Em, if I cared about you being a bitch, I would've left a long time ago," she stated frankly, though Emily could hear the smile in her voice, so she wasn't upset. Jessica knew she wouldn't be anyways; Emily didn't care if people thought she was a bitch, and that was what Jessica loved so much about her best friend.

Emily finally let her head fall onto Jessica's shoulder, defeated, and after a long pause, she muttered in a muffled voice, "I didn't want you to hate me… I never did….." she begged into Jessica's shoulder, unable to lift her face to look at her. The regret and sincerity were audible in her voice. Relief like a waterfall washed over her admitting it though. Jessica smiled again, though Emily didn't see it, "I know."

Emily looked up at her, "You knew?"

Jessica narrowed her eyes, "Alright, now you are the one who was always said I wasn't a dumb bitch, even if I acted like it…" She shrugged, "I guess you were right this time." Emily only stared at her for a moment, unsure what to say or even how to react at all. She wanted to slap her. All that effort…. And she knew all along.

"I know you tried to push me away to protect me…" Jessica admitted for the first time in a year what she now understood needed to be said for them to move on, "But I don't want to be protected… I want a friend," she stared into Emily's eyes, her own desperate for her friend to understand. Emily very rarely ever saw Jessica this serious, this reverent, and when she did, it was only around her. Only in her darkest times. Emily sighed, looked down at the ground, and wiped her eyes. She wasn't always good with touchy-feely, but she knew Jessica could read her. She knew Jessica could see that she was done.

But then the novelty of the moment hit her—she was sitting next to her best friend again, not her enemy. Everything would be okay now. Everything was normal again… This caused the memories to come rushing through her head.

 _"I can't believe I have to watch her awkwardly flirt with Mike all weekend. It's pathetic. I mean she really thinks she has a chance?" Emily scoffed as threw her suitcase full of clothes on the bed. They were only staying at the Washington's cabin for the weekend, but she had crammed about a month's worth of supplies into that tiny thing. She had to be prepared for anything, no matter what the situation; especially with Mike here. They were towards the beginning of their relationship, and the need to impress was still there._

 _"She's pathetic," Jess agreed. She was lying on her back with her phone held over her head, currently holding conversations with four different guys. Actually, five; Adam just texted her too. "Why do you care anyway? It's not like anything will happen. Mike is way too into you, you know that." She tried her hardest to sound interested in what she was saying, but her phone was capturing her attention right now._

 _"Yeah I know that. It's just… obnoxious. I dunno. I wish we could just make her stop somehow," Emily complained. Jess laughed, her eyes still fixed on her phone, "Yeah, how? By locking her away? That's basically the only way to keep Hannah away from him."_

 _Emily rolled her eyes. "That's only a temporary fix. She'll be back."_

 _"So what could we do to keep her away forever?" They both sat in silence for a while, the only sound coming from the keys on Jess's phone. "I mean, can't Mike just tell her to back off? Surely she'll listen to him; she'll do anything he asks."_

 _"Mike won't do that. He enjoys the extra attention; plus, I think he likes making me jealous." Emily sat on the bed with a sigh next to Jess. She knew if she put her mind to it, Jess could come up with something. Jess was the plotter, the schemer, and Emily was always the clever one, the one to get them out of trouble if her plan failed._

 _They had been partners in crime since middle school, when they first met. Jess had been the new girl, and at first, Emily hated her. New girls were always a threat, a wild card; they were the only thing anyone talked about for a while. And it made it even worse that she was pretty. Even back then, Jess had been drop dead gorgeous: her flawless skin, her blonde hair, her bountiful "blessings." All the girls hated her, all the guys loved her. Of course, they weren't actually interested in her, just in her physical appearance. Jess knew that, and she definitely knew how to use that. Before Jess came along, Emily was the hot topic in the halls. Not only was she beautiful, she was incredibly intelligent and had a quick wit. But the sexiest thing about her was her confidence. She could make girls feel inferior just by walking too close in the hallway. Because of that, she didn't have any "true" friends. She had people she saw and talked to on a regular basis, and they would hang out outside of school occasionally, but she knew it was only out of fear. As soon as she left their presence, they would complain about her; she knew that, but she never cared really. She couldn't form a connection with any of them, so she could care less what they actually thought. It wasn't just girls she intimidated though – guys too. She never had a successful relationship, only because it always started with her scaring them into it. That's what she hated about being so confident: she couldn't turn it off. It was next to impossible for people to actually like her, but even if they did she didn't think she'd be able to tell._

 _When they first met, Emily hated Jess – she was too pretty, and too stupid. She tried to have intelligent conversation with her, it just didn't work. Jessica was much more into idol gossip, clothes, and nail color than anything Emily deemed actually interesting. The next semester, she and Jess had study hall together. It was a small class, so there was no avoiding each other. They didn't become friends until Jess decided that asking Emily to tutor her would be better than failing out of the math class she was currently in. At first, Emily always loved getting to point out other peoples' mistakes. But then, both of them started to look forward to study hall. Emily found that talking to Jess was actually fun. Even though she was an idiot, she would talk to her as though she wasn't intimidated (of course she wasn't; Emily may have beaten her in brains, but Jessica had the physical advantage and they both knew that). Study hall was the last class period of the school day, so they would often leave the class together. Emily began to catch a faint glimmer of the idea that Jessica might not actually be as dumb as she looked, began to suspect that perhaps the girl didn't want to succeed, or didn't believe in herself enough to succeed, and it sparked some kind of interest her. And spending so much time with her, Jessica began to understand that Emily wasn't a cold-hearted bitch through and through, just rough on the outside and trying to make her way through life as a strong, opinionated woman, just being herself. And that's when the understanding and friendship amongst them began to grow… But there was one day in particular that sealed their friendship:_

 _It was a weekend, some time in early February; snow had just began to fall as Emily was leaving from her middle school. She got home and started taking off her scarf and hat, slowly stripping away all the external layers that had been keeping her warm. As she was kicking her boots off, she noticed that her puff-ball of a dog, Yuli wasn't yapping at her heels as usual._

 _"Yuli," she called sweetly, clicking her tongue against her teeth, "Here boy!" She should have taken Yuli's absence as a warning; he only ever hid for one reason. Emily turned the corner and stopped when she saw her dad sitting in his chair. Ice ran through her whole body, and she took a deep breath._

 _"Hi dad," she said, trying to sound chipper. He turned slightly to glance at her over his shoulder and smirked, "Yeah." He turned back around to face the TV, although Emily would bet that he wasn't even remotely paying attention to the news; he was just waiting for her to make the next move. "How was your trip?" she asked cautiously._

 _"Fine."_

 _"I didn't realize you were coming back today."_

 _"Is that why this place is such a mess?" Emily looked around, checking for anything she had missed. As a general rule, she liked to try to keep everything clean as she went along rather than putting if off till the night before he got back. If she procrastinated, it was easier to miss things and then she would have to pay for it; she had learned that the hard way. "Uh…" she said, still checking for where she had messed up. Other than her dishes in the sink, everything was spotless. It must have been a really bad trip… she though to herself. It was then she noticed the drink being held in her dad's hand. "How many drinks have you had?" she blurted out accidentally. She winced and closed her eyes as her dad laughed and stood up._

 _He walked closer to where she was standing and said in a gruff, angry voice, "Not enough." He then passed by Emily to grab another drink and she sighed with relief. "I just meant, have you eaten anything yet? I can make you some food?" Emily offered politely, still trying to keep her voice chipper._

 _"How's school going?" her dad said, changing the subject almost before she had the chance to finish her sentence._

 _"Good. Good, everything is going great."_

 _"Still keeping up your grades?"_

 _"Yes sir."_

 _"All of them?"_

 _"Yes sir, of course."_

 _"How's history going?"_

 _Emily's heart sank, and fear wrapped around her heart. "History is great."_

 _"Yeah?"_

 _"Yes sir."_

 _"Because I came home and found this on the counter," her dad reached into his back pocket with his hand that wasn't clutching his drink and pulled out a piece of paper. He walked over to her and unfolded it right in front of her face. Emily closed her eyes and looked down at her feet as she saw the "87" is red pen written at the top of her test from last week._

 _"Dad..." Emily started, her voice shaking slightly._

 _"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Emily glanced up, but turned her head sideways when she met the rage in his eyes. "You piece of trash, did you hear me?" her dad grabbed her face roughly and twisted it towards his face. "Does this look like an A to you?" he hissed._

 _Emily felt dizzy from the scent of alcohol on his breath. "No, but Dad, look," Emily whimpered. She could feel his grip tightening around her face._

 _"No!" He shouted, pushing her roughly against a shelf along the wall. Emily let out a sharp cry as the felt the corner scrape across her back and she felt warm blood spread out from the cut. "I don't want to hear any of your pathetic excuses!" He spat, slamming his fist above her head._

 _"The class average was a 68, I still got the highest grade," Emily tried to explain, attempting to keep her voice steady and calm._

 _"And you lied to me about it," he growled, walking closer to Emily._

 _"What?"_

 _"You did— you thought what? You thought you could just hide this and I wouldn't find out about it? You really are as stupid as you look," he muttered as he turned around. He walked sluggishly over to his chair again and flopped down. Emily stood quietly against the wall for a few moments, crying to herself as silently as she possibly could._

 _"I'm sorry," she breathed, her voice sounded dry and shaky._

 _Her dad scoffed. "Yeah. Yeah I know you are. And you remind me of it every day." The room was silent with only the sound of the ice clinking against the edges of her dad's glass as he slowly lifted it to his face and drank from it._

 _"Are you hungry? I could make you some food?" Emily offered, hoping that food on his stomach would lessen the effect of the alcohol in his system._

 _"If I want something to eat, I'll get it myself. I'm not going to trust you to fix something for me."_

 _"I really don't mind..."_

 _"No! I said no, okay?" he snapped. Emily jumped slightly, and backed further into her corner. Her dad sighed and poured another glass slowly. "You would probably end up giving me food poisoning, you destroy everything you touch." Emily scoffed involuntarily, and instantly regretted it when he spun around on her. "You don't think that's true? You think I'm lying?" her dad began to move towards her again. "No, no, I'm sorry, you're right, I know you are," Emily pleaded._

 _"All of this is your fault!" her dad screamed, throwing his glass down so it shattered at Emily's feet. She let out a short scream and brought her hands up to cover her face. If her dad hit her anywhere else, she could cover it up with clothes or jewelry; but there was no chance in hiding a black eye. Last time that had happened, she had to miss a week of school until it got to the point that it could be concealed with makeup, but even then she had to wear her glasses to offer extra cover._

 _"Come here," her dad snarled, grabbing her upper arm roughly. His grip was tight, squeezing her and pinching her uncomfortably – she already knew there would be a bruise there tomorrow. She followed him willfully, knowing that if she resisted, it would only make things worse. He drug her into the hall where they stopped in front of a wall of family photos. His hand grabbed her hair on the back of her head and he abruptly guided her gaze to one particular picture. "Look at her!" Emily didn't have to; she already knew who she was supposed to be looking at._

 _"Dad, I didn't…."_

 _"It is YOUR fault! She died giving birth to YOU! If she had gotten rid of you like I wanted to when we found out she was pregnant..." his voice trailed off. "We knew her heart couldn't take it. But she insisted. She wanted a 'little angel' to make her life better. Instead she died and I got stuck with you." Emily felt his hand tighten the grip on her hair, and felt his hot breath on her neck. "Although, maybe it's for the best. So she didn't have to witness how pathetic and disappointing you are." He tossed her head forward and it hit the edge of the picture frame, cutting the top of Emily's head. A headband should cover that one up okay. Emily stood frozen until she heard him shuffle down the hallway and sink back into his arm chair. She tiptoed quietly up the stairs and went into her room, closing the door silently behind her. She clicked the lock into place, and placed her chest that usually sits at the end of her bed in front of her door. It was only then that she allowed herself to break down on her bed. Her face was pressed into a pillow to keep her sobs from carrying downstairs. If he heard her crying, she would really get it; she had learned that the hard way._

 _When Emily finally calmed her breathing and had wiped the tears from her eyes, she heard her dad banging around downstairs. Tonight was worse than usual… She pulled out her phone and started ruffling through her contacts, looking for someone who might be able to give her a bed for the night. Of course, none of them knew… they never did, and she would never tell. Jen would still be at dance practice, Paula wouldn't even talk to her at the moment… Jess. Emily pulled the ringing phone up to her ear and waited with baited breath for Jess to answer._

 _"Em, hey! What's up?" Emily smiled. She actually sounded excited to hear from her. Genuine excitement; she had never heard that before._

 _"Hey Jess!" Emily spoke, trying to sound her usual "happy" self. "I actually have a favor to ask."_

 _"No problem! After all the school stuff you've helped me with, it's about time I got to return the favor."_

 _"It's kind of embarrassing, but…." Emily sighed, and braced herself to tell the lie. "I locked myself out of my house, and my dad won't be home until tomorrow."_

 _Emily heard Jess laugh, "What? You don't have a spare?"_

 _"Well I do…. But I used it last night and left it inside."_

 _"Wowwww, Em. You know for someone so smart, that was incredibly dumb. You want to come stay over here for tonight?"_

 _"Yeah, if it's not too much of a bother?"_

 _"No problem! I'm actually at the mall right now, would you be able to meet me and my mom there?"_

 _"Yeah, it'll take about 30 minutes, but I can definitely do that. Oh my God, thank you so much, I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."_

 _"See you in a bit!" Jessica sang before she hung up._

 _Emily quickly assessed her "battle scars" and what clothes she needed to pack in order to keep everything covered up. It could have been a lot worse. A long sleeved shirt, scarf, and a headband should be able to do the trick. Emily quickly stuffed her things in a bag and opened her window. She dropped the bag – the snow muffled the sound – and she followed suit. Emily's boots sunk into the snow she noticed she was shivering already. Luckily, the mall was about a 15 minute hike from her house._

I'm here :-) _Emily sent the text as she stood in the food court of the mall._

Coolio! Where at?

The food court.

Oh awesome sauce! I'm starving, be there in a bit. Can't wait to show you the shoes I just got! ;)

 _Emily closed her phone with a smile. She was already starting to feel better. She almost jumped when Jess ran up behind her and gave her a hug from behind. "Jess, oh my God!" Emily laughed, "You terrified me, don't do that!"_

 _"Sorry," Jess giggled. "Oh, this is my mom! She insists everyone calls her Maira; says it makes her feel young."_

 _"Watch it missy, I am young," Maira said putting her arm around Jess. "Hey, Emily. Jessica has told me a lot about you." Emily shook her hand and smiled politely. She was pretty, well dressed, just the kind of parent Jess would have... Except she looked nothing like Jess. "Are you girls hungry?"_

 _After a hearty meal of mall food, Maira drove Jess and Emily back to the house and Emily had almost forgotten why she was there. They pulled into Jessica's drive way and Emily's jaw almost dropped. "You never told me you live in a mansion," she mumbled to Jess as she pulled her bag out of the trunk, staring up at the enormous house that loomed over her._

 _"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I don't like mentioning it. People might like me for my money; I'd rather them like me for my looks, not my bank account," Jessica teased. Emily laughed and followed Jess through the front door._

 _"Daddy!" she squealed, dropping the dozens of shopping bags and throwing her arms around the tall man's neck._

 _"Hey pumpkin!" he didn't look anything like Jess either. "Em, this is my dad."_

 _"Hey there Emily. Nice to finally meet the girl Jess is always talking about."_

 _"Nice to meet you too, sir."_

 _"Oh, ouch!" Jessica's dad grabbed his chest. "Oh that hurts. Don't call me sir, that's what people called my grandad."_

 _"Sorry," Emily said with a smile._

 _"We're going to go watch a movie, bye!" Jess grabbed Emily's hand and drug her up the stairs. They walked into Jessica's room and purple seemed to scream at Emily from every direction. "I'm guessing purple is your favorite color?" Emily teased, dropping her bag in the corner. Jess gasped, "You never told me you were a detective."_

 _Jess kicked off her shoes and pushed them under her king sized bed. "So, the movies are next to the TV right there. Pick one out and put on your pj's – I'm going to get us popcorn." Without giving Emily time to respond, Jess flounced out of the room. Emily stared after her for a few seconds, and then shrugged and examined the large collection of movies that Jessica had on her shelf._

 _She pulled a few out that looked interesting and laid them on the purple fluffy bedspread. She then turned to her suitcase and pulled out her pajamas. They were long sleeved, of course – cover up the real reason for the impromptu visit. She pulled her shirt over her head, wincing slightly at the bruising that had already begun to make her sore. Before she could pull the fresh cover over her head, she heard the door swing open behind her, and she heard Jessica's chipper voice behind her._

 _"So, turns out we only had kettle corn. My mom likes it, but I prefer – Oh my God! Em, what happened?!" Although Emily tugged her shirt down as fast as she could, she knew there was no hope of hiding the plethora of scarring and fresh wounds cascading down her back. "It's – It's nothing Jess, don't worry about it, they're from an old accident when I was really little," Emily lied frantically._

 _Unfortunately, Jess was persistent. While Emily was still fumbling through an excuse, Jess had walked over to her briskly, and pulled the back of her shirt up. "Em…. These are fresh. Oh my God, you're bleeding. Em, what…?"_

 _Emily shoved Jessica off and fixed her shirt, "I fell, okay?! God, just lay off it already!"_

 _Jessica's eyes suddenly grew very soft and compassionate. "Emily… you didn't lock yourself out of your house, did you?"_

 _Emily snorted, "You don't know what you're talking about."_

 _"Oh, I don't? Because those scars are reoccurring, and you had bruising on you lower arm, and I'm guessing those aren't even the worst injuries you've had," Jessica said sternly. "Emily, if you're in an abusive home, you have to tell me. I can help you, we can—"_

 _"We can what?!" Emily spat, her words louder than she intended. She lowered her voice, afraid Jessica's parents might come investigate, "What? What can we do? We all can't have a perfect mansion house, perfect parents, a perfect life… some people are not that lucky, okay?! Okay, some people have to struggle through a little harder than a princess like you. But that's the hand their dealt, and some people just have to deal with it!"_

 _Jessica stared at Emily, a thin veil of tears behind her eyes. "Emily… we can tell someone; we can report this." Emily laughed and shook her head, "You don't think I've tried? You don't think other people have tried? He always finds a way around it. He's a great dad when he's under observation. But when they've cleared him…. He's worse than ever, okay? Just please… I'm begging you: forget you saw anything." At that point, Jessica grabbed Emily's hand and slowly wrapped her arms around her. "I'm so sorry…." It was then that Emily first noticed the tears on her own face, but she did not try to stop them. For once in her life, she could be weak; she could be herself. They stood there like that for several minutes, until finally Emily sighed and pulled away. "Thanks… Jess, I'm really sorry for snapping at you like that…" Usually, Emily would be too proud to offer a sincere apology. But this was different somehow._

 _After a silence, thinking of what to say, Jessica spoke up. "You know, I was dealt a bad hand too," Jess said with a small smile. "Yeah, I was actually adopted." She looked up at Emily's surprised face, "Oh no, those aren't my real parents," she scoffed, sounding like a quiet, bitter laugh, "I wish." The thought of her biological parents put her in a mindset she didn't want to be in, but she wanted to explain it to Emily. "My father was abusive too… He um… He told me every day that I was a dumb slut and that's all I would ever be…" She paused. "That went on for sixteen years… Sixteen years until my pathetic excuse of a mother could do something about it." Emily slowly reached out to place a hand on Jessica's shoulder gingerly, understanding suddenly hitting her like a truck._

 _"But now I'm here. So, yeah I do have it great now, but not because I took the hand I was dealt – it's because I worked for it." But even though she seemed happy now… That's when Emily understood. Jessica's father's abuse drove her to act the way she did, fueled her extreme insecurity, as if using her body to get what she wanted was all she could do, and though her new, wonderful parents tried to tell her otherwise, tried to encourage her and fix her, it would take a lot to break the mold Jessica was shaped from._

 _That night, Emily and Jessica talked all night; they never did watch those movies. But more than that, Jessica never said a word to anyone at school. She could have, so easily and it would have destroyed Emily just like that, but she never did. Instead, Emily's position next to the most popular girl in school was secured and they became the unbreakable dynamic duo. Emily understood that being the queen gave Jessica the confidence she couldn't find elsewhere—that's why she couldn't do well academically; she'd no longer be accepted by them, plus her insecurity from her father's treatment would never allow her to believe she was actually intelligent—but Emily would work on that. And Emily's naturally bitchy attitude helped her stay on top, right next to her best friend. Ever since that night, Emily would always go to Jessica's when her father came home. They became closer than sisters, the absolute best of friends._

Jessica's voice pulled her back to the present. "Hey I'm hungry," she said suddenly, casually with a sigh. There it was. Her irreverent self was back. Emily smiled. Just the way she wanted it.

"One more thing though," Emily said, sitting up to look at Jessica. Jessica looked at her expectantly. "I dumped Mike just so that I could take Matt from you," she admitted blatantly, "Just so that I'd have a reason to pick fights with you."

Jessica was silent for a moment, thinking. But then she merely nodded, "Well you really put everything into the whole 'being a bitch thing,' I'll give you that. But you expect me to believe that was the only reason?" she challenged Emily with a raised eyebrow. Emily's own eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Wha—I don't know—"

Jessica hushed her, "Come on, everyone could tell you liked Matt more. Mike was never right for you," she added, "Now they're both better off for it," she added with a shrug.

Emily stared at her, and her frustration finally peaked. She was trying to make Jessica hate her for a whole goddamn year, and no matter what she said, the stupid bitch wouldn't bite. "I fucked Matt just to make you mad! And I made Mike lie to you and tell you that he ditched me because of how awful I was! And then I was going to take advantage of Matt's heartbreak over you to use him and then toss him to the side!" she vented with desperate, burning eyes. She wouldn't have given one shit about doing any of these things to any of the other regular bitches at school, but Jessica was her best friend… her only friend for so long… the only one who knew her…

Jessica leaned in and took Emily's head in her hands, placing a kiss lightly on top of it, "So you set me up with the guy I had been crushing on forever when I didn't even realize it? And then gave Matt someone who actually cares about him—because I know you fell for him even if you only wanted to use him at first." She paused, savoring the utterly shocked look on Emily's face, "So… good try but that was a pathetic attempt at trying to make me hate you, smart ass."

Emily stared, her mouth open in utter disbelief of her best friend. But this is who she loved, who she missed, exactly who she wanted by her side. "You. Are. Such. A. Bitch!" she exclaimed, pulling the smaller blond a bit roughly to her in a tight hug for the first time in a year. Both could only smile at the feeling of security and belonging they'd been missing for a year.

"Well this bitch is starving. How about we go unleash hell on some unsuspecting waiter like old times?" Emily smiled deviously, "Oh nothing would be better."


	14. Hurt

Ashley and Chris laid on Chris's bed, his arms encompassing her. They spent a lot of time just… lying together. They fell asleep next to each other a lot, each unaware that it was quite possibly due to the incredible trust that bound them together. Sleeping next to someone is the most intimate and trusting act human beings can perform together, and Ashley and Chris's relationship had no further it could go anymore, no depth that it had not reached.

Chris's arms encompassed Ashley as she texted Sam. Chris had his head resting on her shoulder. "How is Sam?" he asked, his voice calm though holding a hint of concern for the kind girl that he had always shared Josh's respect for, even more so now. He wished he had the courage to talk to her more, but it seemed like when they were together, their hatred and blame for not doing anything to help Josh—or Hannah and Beth for that matter—was only intensified.

Ashley rolled over, "Why don't you talk to her more?" she asked suddenly, her eyes deep and questioning. She could turn on and off like a switch between thoughts and moods. Chris struggled to keep up sometimes, but he never minded. If anything, he loved her more for it. She was so intriguing on so many levels… and now that they were getting closer, she was slowly revealing all of her to him, all of the ways she was unique and quirky, that her shy exterior betrayed.

Chris looked down and shrugged, "I dunno…" he muttered. Sam and Chris were both quiet-natured when it came to talking about feelings—they'd wait for someone else to come to them first.

"She _needs_ us right now, Chris," Ashley almost seemed to be begging him.

Chris looked up, "I know…" he admitted defensively. "We just… we've all been dealing with our grief…"

"But don't you think it's time to stop grieving and start moving on together?" Ashley asked with a hint of desperation in her eyes.

Chris didn't know what to say.

Ashley leaned up on her elbow, suddenly determined. "I'll ask what she's doing right now." Chris didn't protest. He really did care about Sam and want to see her; somewhere deep down he wanted to help, to make sure she was okay. As much as they both hurt, she was a good friend of his, and vice versa.

"She said she'd be home tonight if we wanted to come over."

"Are you sure she's okay with that?" Chris asked, eyebrows raised.

"You know Chris, Sam seems very… independent, but deep down… she's lonely. She needs friends too." She paused, "And… and you know she blames herself too… for what happened to Hannah and Beth… and… for leaving Josh too…" her voice was much quieter. She knew Sam now almost as well as Chris.

Chris nodded slowly. He hadn't thought about it, but he was sure she did. Suddenly he felt like a horrible friend to one of the only other people who loved Josh just as much as he did.

As Chris breathed in Ashley's comforting scent, worried about the coming night, he remembered Josh talking about Sam a few months before the incident, when Chris had told her that he and Ashley were hanging out together one night.

 _"So," Josh turned on Chris quickly, giving him his mischievous smile, though his voice was suddenly questioning, "You're takin her to the bone zone tonight right?"_

 _Chris's mouth dropped open a bit as one eyebrow raised, "…. 'The_ bone zone _…'?" He should've known better than to question his eccentric friend at this point._

 _"Man, you've been talking to her for_ months _," Josh complained dramatically._

 _"Oh my God Josh, leave me alone," Chris said in an exasperated voice, eyes wide, though smiling._

 _Josh leaned on one leg, pointing accusingly at Chris, "Come on, bro, when are you gonna make a move—before someone else does?"_

 _Chris sighed deeply. But then had an idea. "I will when you will."_

 _"Hey, that's not fair," Josh protested, looking down at the ground._

 _"What? How's that not fair?" he asked, raising an eyebrow._

 _"You know…" he muttered._

 _"Uh huh…" Chris smiled in understanding, began circling him slowly like a shark, "What, are you scared of her?" he asked. The tables had turned._

 _"Nah, man, it's just… you know… she's…" he shrugged, tilting his head to one side, "Independent… strong…" he trailed off, thinking about everything he loved about Sam._

 _Chris nodded, "Dude, you're_ so _in love with her… You gotta tell her."_

 _"I can't. She's like…" he paused, voice even quieter than usual, "She just means a lot to me, you know?"_

 _Chris understood. Josh didn't want to lose perhaps the only other person in the world who shared his feelings over his sisters' deaths. They'd always been friends, but their friendship had grown even stronger lately… He wouldn't risk losing her to have the relationship he wanted with her. Chris smiled; beneath all his bad boy attitude, Josh was such a good guy._

 _"You and Ashley on the other hand…" Josh looked back up at Chris with a small smile._

 _Chris shook his head and lifted his hands to protest. "I'll kiss Ashley if you'll kiss Sam," he came back._

 _Josh shrugged proudly, "I already did, bro."_

 _"That doesn't count, you were drunk!"_

 _Josh punched Chris's shoulder softly, laughing his smooth laugh, "More than you can say."_

Memories were probably the hardest things for him to deal with. It felt like they plunged him into moments of intense relapse. He got better slowly, felt time naturally closing wounds that had no business healing any other way; and he could make himself better with the help of, and for the sake of, the people around him, but there was no way to keep memories away. He felt tears out of nowhere and then cursed himself for crying again, every time.

And then he turned to the one thing that distracted him from all of this. The only thing. Ashley.

He shoved his lips to her aggressively this time, his face wet and his lips salty from tears. He just wanted to forget it all. All of the dark thoughts, the torture of the things he couldn't change, that he couldn't forget, but he couldn't live with either… he couldn't handle this weight, this pain, but she was there to help him forget when it got unbearable… This time, though, he attacked her with a sudden force that made it seem as if he were trying to physically force the thoughts from his head. As soon as he lurched toward her, she knew, like she always did. She knew he needed her to distract him… and she'd do whatever Chris wanted her to do.

Ashley immediately returned his sudden kiss, matching his eagerness, which she actually found very hot… He wasted no time, wrapping his hands around her small body, pushing her face to his with his hands on the back of her head. He kissed her intensely, moving his lips impatiently down her neck. Suddenly, he picked her up and threw her onto the bed, rougher than he had meant to, but she understood. He wasn't messing around today. She'd never seen him quite this fervent before, but she knew how upset he was. She'd be what he needed. It was the least she could do.

As he climbed onto the bed on top of her, she grabbed his back and dug in with her nails, matching his roughness. Chris let out a loud moan that rumbled in his chest, and felt a shiver run through his whole body simultaneously. He breathed out a hot breath onto Ashley's neck, making her shiver as well.

"Ashley…" came his shaky whisper, and then he leaned closer to her ear.

"Take me…" It came out before he even had a chance to think about what he was saying, his intense need overwhelming him.

She reacted impulsively, caught him off guard as she grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling him down and pinning him on his back. In her attempt to mount him, though, she accidentally kneed him between his legs. "Oh crap I'm sorry!" she gushed as Chris's body cringed in reaction. But he did not retract in pain. Instead, his hips involuntarily thrusted upward into Ashley, and he bit down hard on his lower lip. Ashley smiled understandingly.

Chris's mind subconsciously told his body that he needed to feel his pain physically too, that he had to be punished for what he did. Chris didn't know this, nor did he care to give it enough thought, he just knew he wanted, he craved, more. More pain.

Ashley lunged forward and bit down on Chris's lip. Hard. Chris's body squirmed underneath her, and she felt like she was on fire having this kind of control over him to pleasure him—he'd never reacted like this to anything she'd ever done. She bit down as hard as she could and he let out a sharp, "Ngh!" as his body jerked suddenly. She pulled back, noticing a tiny trickle of blood on his lip.

She grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and dabbed his lip, "Sorry…" But then he took her small hand in his suddenly, shoved the tissue out of her hand and then shoved it onto the crotch of his jeans, wrapping his hand around hers to squeeze roughly as his eyes squinted at the feeling. He didn't know what to say—didn't know _how_ to say what he wanted to—he wanted her to destroy him, to break him until there was nothing left of him.

Ashley looked down at him, her eyes sparkling, "Are you sure? This is what you want?" she asked in a suddenly tender voice. Chris grunted in response, nodding his head, his eyes closed, both in anticipation and pleasure and in avoidance of looking at her. Part of him didn't want to admit that he enjoyed this strange kink, insecure that she would judge him for it. But that was the furthest thought from her mind right now.

She moved her knee up to jab it into his crotch, and he let out a deep breath, an intense sound of pain mixed with pleasure. Confident that it was what he wanted, her heart beat fast, an excited smile on her face, "Wow, you are full of surprises…" she muttered

Chris looked up at her with his head tilted slightly, his eyes holding an apologetic look as his eyebrows lifted. He seemed to curl into himself shyly a bit. "No, no it's… really hot," she whispered reassuringly, her voice cutely unsure as well. Knowing that she liked it now, Chris smiled, but it turned into a small smirk. "Mmmm… know what you should do?" he whispered seductively, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Oh!" Ashley rolled over and reached into the desk by the bed and pulled out a pair of scissors suddenly.

Chris sat up, "Wait wait wait wait…"

Her smile faded, "What…?"

"Now—now hold on a second…" He lifted a hand in front of his face, glancing down at his crotch nervously.

"What?" she asked in a more playful voice, her smile returning in a mischievous way, as she approached the bed again, climbing up to lie on her side next to him, "I was just wondering…" she slowly unbuttoned his shirt, then slid it off his arms, and traced the tip of the sharp, cold metal scissors up his bare stomach, applying only gently pressure, "If you wanted to have some fun is all…" she trailed off in an oddly innocent voice.

Chris's head fell back and his eyes closed and he exhaled a long, shaky breath as the scissors scraped against his sensitive skin. The way Ashley was talking, combined with the feeling of the cold pressure and the imminent pain, was way too much for him. He wanted to ask where the hell this Ashley came from—but he was realizing that Ashley's complexities grew deeper each day.

She took his silence as a yes and began to trace circles on his stomach, pressing down harder until red lines were left on his skin. Chris couldn't control the noises escaping from his lips.

"Good?" Ashley asked with a small smile.

"… Fuck…" was all he could manage.

She giggled, "I'll take that as a yes."

Chris swallowed and it was all he could manage to choke back whining noises and twitching. _Control_ , he told himself over and over, closing his eyes tightly in focus.

But Ashley seemed to have a different thought process.

"Why are you trying so hard?" she asked skeptically, then leaned closer to his face, "Lose control…" she whispered, her smile slowly growing as she simultaneously pushed the tip of the scissors to his skin on his the sensitive area on his side.

Chris did what Ashley said. A sharp noise escaped his lips as she pressed the tip hard against his skin, sounding like a high-pitched whine that was broken and wavering as it faded. He grabbed the sheets with his hands, pulling them almost off the bed. His knees bent as his legs squirmed. Ashley couldn't believe how sexy she found it as he squirmed in pleasure under the work of her hands.

She ran the scissors lightly over the crotch of his jeans, barely touching them, and Chris panted at the light, tempting touch, his member growing through his pants. Ashley unzipped said pants and pushed them down, then ran the scissors across his underwear this time.

"Ahhh—ahhhh— _ngahhhh_ …." Chris groaned, eyebrows furrowed in desperation at Ashley. But Ashley was having too much fun. She suddenly shoved a hand into his hair and grabbed a handful, pulling it, as she grabbed his crotch with the other hand, pressing with increasing pressure. Chris grabbed onto Ashley's chest with both hands, squeezing back in return as his hips thrust involuntarily at the feeling of his body being abused by her. Ashley bit her lip in response, and tilted her head to look at him with her gorgeous big green eyes sideways, her golden orange hair falling a bit in front of her young, round face. And that's when Chris completely lost control.

He shoved his lips to hers, meeting resistance from the hand still in his hair, which jerked him back. He hissed in pain against her lips, and they moaned into each others' mouths as their lips danced against each other, Chris's warm breath hitting hers as he grunted in response to her tugging and squeezing. His hands roamed her entire body, pressed tight against her lean muscles, coming to a hault to hold her round bottom.

He pulled it to him as tightly as he could, and she smiled down at him in response. She pushed her pants off and climbed on top of him, very slowly, so that her underwear rubbed against his, and then slid herself up and down against his hard member. She leaned down and bit down into the sensitive skin on his neck with her canines as he cursed in her ear in impulsive reaction to the pain, his hands fumbling with her shirt before finally ripping it off in frustration. His hands held her breasts tightly, fingers groping at her small nipples, his tongue dancing around them in between his teeth grinding and winces of pain.

Ashley slid her hand down to remove his underwear, his member standing tall and incredibly hard as she pulled them down. She took it in her mouth while she traced his nipples with the tip of the scissors in the other, pressing down against the pink skin. She began to run her teeth along his hard member, and she could feel it twitch in response and Chris's muscles tense under her. His breathing was completely uneven now, and he winced, his eyes closed tightly as he tried just to hold himself together.

He exhaled a long, slow breath. "Ashley… I'm gonna…" he warned through a grunt. As if in response, she bit down hard and his hips thrust into the air, "FUCK— _SHIT_!" He dug his nails into the soft skin of her back as his seed shot against her chest suddenly.

Ashley collapsed next to him, the metal scissors dropping onto the floor next to the bed with a dull clank, leaving small red marks on her hands from the handles. She stared at the ceiling as if trying to take in what just happened for the first time.

Chris only panted loudly through his teeth, his eyes still closed. He grimaced in pain, basking in the sweet sweet release he felt in it.

Ashley rolled over and pressed her lips to Chris's one more time, biting his lip and pulling it as she pulled away. Chris watched her go breathlessly, as she picked up the scissors off the floor and carried them back to the desk, twirling them on her fingers. He then watched her prance into the bathroom and heard the water running moments later, the faint sound of her voice singing under it. He smiled despite himself, still breathing heavily. Could he really make her happy?

* * *

As soon as they were patched up and meticulously covered, they were at Sam's. She ushered her friends into the living room. "Oh, hey, I'll make some tea," she said with a small smile, happy they were there.

Chris turned his head to look at Ashley with raised eyebrows, giving her a shocked expression of mock sophistication at Sam's fanciness. "Why, yes, just don't forget the scones, my lady," he came back flawlessly in a perfect British accent with his head lifted and his eyes closed.

Sam looked back before she entered the kitchen and smiled at Ashley's laughter, "Screw you…!" she replied in a playful singing voice.

Chris crossed his arms in front of his chest. "No offense Sam, but that's Ashley's job…"

In the kitchen, Sam heard Chris's sudden cry of pain at Ashley's punch and stifled her laughter.

She returned to the living room a few minutes later, "Okay, so I know you were kidding but I totally have scones." She sat them down on the coffee table with the tea. Sam sat down on the couch next to Ashley and handed her a warm glass of tea, which Ashley took in her small hands. As she began sipping it, Sam noticed the red spots on her hands, which were somewhat swollen now, but before she could say anything Chris reached forward to get a scone from the coffee table and Sam saw the small spots of dried blood on the back of Chris's neck. Then she connected the dots.

She laughed under her breath, "So what's with the uh… thick clothes huh? You guys cold?" she asked smoothly as she dropped a cube of sugar into her tea and stirred it calmly, leaning back on the couch.

Ashley looked up with sudden panic in her face. Chris responded with the first thing he could think of, "Uh… n—no we just uh… I think we're getting sick so we didn't wanna take any chances."

Sam nodded slowly, "Mmm hmm…" she muttered skeptically. At their confused expressions, she explained, "Your 'sick' is showing," she motioned to the back of her neck, and Chris reached back to touch the same spot; then his face turned suddenly blood red as he pulled his hand away and saw the spot of red. Ashley froze. She never wanted anyone to know about this part of her.

After a moment of Sam's smug expression and genuine attempts not to laugh, Chris sighed and slid off his sweater to reveal the t shirt, giving up on the charade. Sam raised her eyebrows at Chris's bruises and band aids all over his arms and the part of his chest that was visible at the top of his t shirt, and her mind formed a very vivid mental image.

Her eyebrows raised. " _Wow_ …" She had only hoped that their… "alone time" would go well—knowing they were both virgins—but she had no idea it would've gone _this_ well for her two shy, awkward friends. She was honestly a little blown away by learning this about them. "It's always the quiet ones, isn't it?"

Ashley's face shifted from embarrassment to vengeance as Sam laughed.

Sam noticed her expression and said more seriously, "Ash, it's okay. It's just me, remember? I'm not gonna tell anyone. Besides, it's nothing to be ashamed about…"

But Ashley did not want to talk about her darker side. "Chris, hold her down for me," came her quiet and threatening voice as her eyes narrowed on Sam.

"Wait wait wait wait—!" Sam pleaded with her hands up, through her laughter. But Chris already had her pinned.

Ashley stood over the squirming blond menacingly. "Ash, please, let's talk about this!"

"About what Sam?" Ashley asked, her head tilted to one side.

"… About the bone zone!" she barely got it out through her laughter.

"You're dead to me!" Ashley screamed, falling on her friend with relentless tickling. Chris joined in to help his girlfriend, an adorable wide smile on his face as Sam squirmed helplessly beneath the couple.

Sam regretted nothing. Like Chris, she was beginning to feel that maybe she could be happy again.


	15. Forgiveness

Jessica ran her hands up and down Mike's incredible well-sculpted chest, smiling at the hard muscles as she stopped to trace them, up and down his abdomen, her fingernails adding an electric spark to her touch. He leaned his head back with a quiet groan in his throat as she traced circles around his nipples, then leaned forward to take her face in his hands gently and begin kissing her, tilting his head into it and running his tongue across her strawberry flavored lips. She smiled at him alluringly as she pulled the hairbands out of her braided hair, letting her long blond hair fall in a wavy mess onto her back.

Mike reached up to run his hands through it, smiling and lying kisses across her face. Their love making seemed more genuine now, more gentle and loving, and the way he touched her seemed almost tenderer. She leaned close to his face, grabbing him around his waist eagerly, "Michael… I have entirely too many clothes on."

He nodded with a small smile, "Yes, mam."

He slid his hands onto her chest and let them rest there for a moment, staring at her perfect breast. Then he let his fingers dance across her hard nipples through the thin fabric and looked up at her, "No bra?" he asked inquisitively, to which she gave him a sideways smile, "Just for you."

"Fuck yeah," he muttered as he began to unbutton each button slowly, enjoying the feel of her through the shirt, then he slid the shirt off her shoulders, as he gave a wide smile.

Jessica giggled at the look on his face, as she reached out to unzip Mike's pants. He continued to fondle her as she slid them down to his knees, and traced the band of his underwear. His breathing increased and he began to push her back on the bed, arms on either side of her. Jessica gave a noise of satisfaction at the way he took control of her. He was exactly the man she needed.

He kicked his pants all the way off and then just as he slid a cool hand underneath her pants into her warm underwear, causing her to let out a high-pitched whimper, Mike's phone rang, the sudden noise loud and obnoxious. "Mike!" Jessica sighed. "Agh—fuck fuck fuck," Mike mumbled frustratedly attempting to find it. He picked it up and looking at the caller ID.

It was Sam. He cursed to himself.

"Ahhh… I gotta take this," he said regrettably—he was afraid of what Sam might do to him for ignoring her, but he was also worried about her and he was the one who'd told her to call him.

" _Really_ , Mike…?" Jessica leaned up, her expression exasperated. She scoffed, rolling her eyes as he gave her an apologetic glance and put the phone to his ear.

"Hey Mike," came Sam's voice quietly.

"Ah, hey—hi Sam," Mike chose his words carefully.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds, as Sam struggled with what to say. Meanwhile, Jessica leaned forward to place her hands flat on his smooth, hard chest. As he swallowed and tried to keep from making a noise, she slowly began to trace her hands downward with a playful smirk.

Sam sat on her bed with her legs crossed, "Hey… So…" she mumbled for a moment, before sighing, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you, it's just—" she paused again, "I'm just all alone and I don't… think I need to be right now…?" she admitted as her voice had trailed off ashamedly. He had no idea how hard it was for her to admit those words. To admit it to herself as much as anyone else. She hated asking other people for help, and she hated other people seeing her hurt, but unlike Josh, she had her head on straight enough to know when she needed help.

Mike could hear the sincerity in her voice though, and the magnitude of the situation hit him hard in his chest—Sam had come to him in her time of need, had allowed him to see her in her broken state.

He tried to focus on her. He knew her well enough to know how big this was, and he intended to help her as much as he could. "No, it's fine, I'm not— _nngh_ _busy_ ," Mike assured her, though the last word came out through a grunt. He looked down at Jessica stroking her hands slowly up his thighs, seductively dancing along his skin dangerously close to his hard member.

Sam paused. "You sure?" she asked skeptically.

"No, no, not at all," he said somewhat fakely as Jessica groped at his member lightly through his soft underwear, and he whimpered quietly. His eyes widened at Jessica, who continued with a smile.

Sam's eyes narrowed, "Are you… okay?"

Mike sighed, "Sorry, just uh… sore is all. Still getting over losing the pain meds," he lied smoothly with a choked laugh.

"Right… so you're doing better then?" Sam asked him.

"Definitely," he assured her.

"Good…" Sam responded genuinely. There was a silence again, and Sam finally spoke up, "Again, I'm sorry for bothering you…"

"You're not bothering me, Sam," he assured her with a small smile. Then Jessica slid her hand down over his lower abdomen, one finger slipping under his underwear then another. Mike's breath caught, but he held it.

"Thank you, Mike…" Sam answered genuinely with a smile. He had turned out to be much more of a man than she had ever given him credit for in high school. She almost felt bad for judging him before she ever got to know him. But then, maybe he had changed like the rest of them. She slowly opened up to Mike, "I would've called Ashley or Chris but um… well, to be honest, they're finally… happy," she admitted with a hint of pride and happiness for them in her voice; it lifted her spirits at least to think about that, "So maybe it's stupid but we spent all this time trying to get them together and they've just been through so much lately—I'm not about to throw all my problems at them after all they've already had to overcome for each other. Besides," a smile grew on her face, "I can't bring myself interrupt the 'bone zone experience' for anything," she put half-hearted air quotes around Josh's favorite phrase.

Mike gave her a quiet laugh, which was broken off suddenly by Jessica grabbing his member suddenly, firmly. He shuddered with an audible groan, and this one was too intense and too sudden for him to mask.

Sam's eyebrows furrowed again, "That doesn't sound good," she commented, still thinking he was just in pain. Mike spoke through his teeth, "Nope—no, everything's fine." Jessica began to rub her hand up his member, and Mike tried to shift out from under it. But she was relentless. He glared at her, but she simply smiled innocently.

Sam ran a hand through the front of her long hair, resting her head on her hand, which was propped on her knee. "So how is Jessica?" she asked, making conversation.

"Jessica's…. ngh— _fiiiine_ …" his voice came out breathless as his head fell back and he tried to focus on anything but what was happening in his pants, though it was becoming increasingly difficult.

Jessica didn't bother to stifle her laughter at Mike's next comment, "I'm not breathing fast; you're breathing fast!" he stammered defensively, still trying to maintain his humor, though he was losing control quickly.

"Is that Jess?" Sam asked in response to Jessica's laughter, and then it hit her immediately. "Oh my God, I am so sorry Mike." She hung up before he had a chance to say anything. She sat still for a moment—she would've been embarrassed but she was too busy laughing already at Mike's (pathetic) attempts at a serious conversation while Jessica was practically raping him.

He was a true friend. One she valued more than she ever would've thought she could.

Meanwhile, Mike pulled his phone down and looked at it when Sam hung up. Jessica grabbed the phone from his hand and tossed it to the other side of the bed. He reached for the phone but then Jessica placed her mouth around his large member, which made his body shudder, "Fuck…" came a shaky, breathy voice as he went limp, his eyes drifting to the ceiling. "Unngghhhh…" his hand slid into her hair as she moved her mouth up and down on him. She could feel the muscles in his legs and stomach twitch. She always let him think he was in control, but she knew exactly how to control him.

"Jess… that was important." He meant for his voice to be scolding and firm, but instead it came out much softer, much less convincing than it sounded in his head. His body knew he wanted her; he could never resist Jessica. And she knew this.

Jessica sat up and crawled on top of Mike, leaning down so her shirtless torso was inches from his face, "What, so you don't want this…?" she asked, lifting a hand to stroke her breasts with a small pout on her face. Mike's eyebrows raised, all train of thought completely gone now. "Babe, you know I can't resist you…" he muttered in sheer defeat as he reached up to grab hold of her and pull her down to him, licking her breasts as she groaned.

* * *

About an hour later, Sam's phone vibrated. Not having anything else to do, she had fallen asleep with the TV on in the background. But when she saw the text from Mike, she sat up.

 **Mike**

 **Hey Sam. Sorry about earlier. I really am. I'm on my way over if that's okay.**

 **Sam**

 **You don't have to you know. It's okay ; )**

 **Mike**

 **Look. I know how important it is for you to talk to someone, trust me, I do.**

Mike felt much the same as Sam sometimes—he struggled with guilt and pain and trauma, who would'nt?—but, also the same as Sam, he had a hard time admitting it to anyone. He didn't like to bother people with his troubles either. So even if they didn't realize it, they were the perfect pair to understand each other and to help each other.

He also began to feel guilty as soon as he had rolled off Jessica and laid on the bed next to her, breathing heavily and soaked with sweat. It was all he could think about how he'd tossed Sam to the side in her time of need to get laid. People may have judged Mike, the "player," the "douche," but he had an extreme sense of guilt in him that he hid extremely well.

He knocked on her door about ten minutes later, and she answered by pulling him in with a tight hug, burying her face in his neck. He hugged her back, his arms wrapped all the way around her back.

"Hey Sam. How you doing?" he asked lightly, though he pulled back to look at her with those big green eyes, deeply sympathetic and genuinely curious.

As she closed the door behind him, she shrugged, "Ah, you know… I'm alive?" she said with raised eyebrows and an unsure half-smile, one that was still beautiful and charming somehow, leaning back against the door.

Mike chuckled but shook his head, "Ain't that the truth…" He shifted his weight uncomfortably as he looked down at the ground, "Sorry about the whole Jessica thing… She just…" he stepped forward, shrugging his shoulders, "She knows how to push my buttons…" he admitted in a mumbling voice. He didn't even bother making up excuses for Sam. And he knew she knew exactly what had happened.

Sam's eyes narrowed and she nodded, "Oh, I'm _sure_ she does," she replied suggestively, teasingly, her eyes saying she knew all. But then she laughed, and leaned up from the door and smiled understandingly at him, "No need to apologize, really. It's fine. Honestly, just hearing your voice earlier really helped…"

One side of Mike's mouth pulled up in an involuntary smile. She led him to the couch and sat down next to him. She leaned back and pulled her knees up to her side. Then all the sudden came her curious voice, "So is Jess really okay with all this…? With us hanging out so much I mean? She's always been the jealous type…"

Mike gave a long sigh and leaned forward, "Yeah well, she doesn't love it…" he looked up at her sideways with his charming smile, "But she trusts me now." He was pretty proud of that.

Sam smiled at the pride on his face, nudging his arm with her elbow half-heartedly. He gave a quiet chuckle back, and she let her head collapse against his shoulder as he leaned back. "Yeah well… you deserve it…" she muttered simply, in a quiet voice.

She stared ahead, lost in thought now, trying to decide what she wanted to say, if she wanted to say anything. Would it really matter, really help? Just having a body next to her brought her out of the dark. Especially Mike, her confidant, her companion. They'd been through so much of it by each others' sides… He wouldn't have made it without her, just as she wouldn't have made it without him.

After what seemed like hours, Sam's voice suddenly broke the silence, "Mike, what are we _doing_ …?" she asked desperately, sincerely.

"What do you mean…?" Mike ventured in an unsure voice.

"I dunno—I just—I feel like we _have_ to be strong. I feel like everyone _expects_ that from us, Mike," she blurted out finally with desperate eyes. She felt a weight lift off her chest as she continued, "I was always the strongest girl in my class. I was always the one everyone looked up to for help or advice or support. Everyone thinks I'm so level-headed and tough… But I'm so sick of it, Mike."

She looked up at him, found the courage to meet his eyes, "I don't want to be strong anymore." Her voice was broken through the tears that began to well behind her eyes. Mike could hear the sincerity in her voice, the discomfort it brought her to show her pain around other people, to turn herself inside out and reveal her inner demons for the world to see.

Mike wrapped his arms around her shoulders as she sniffed in his chest. "Hey. No one's asking you to be strong Sam," he said so matter-of-factly.

Mike's words meant everything to Sam. She let her demons out as she cried into Mike's shirt. She couldn't exercise these demons like this alone. Mike just kept his hand wrapped around her arm comfortingly. He was the type of strong silent person that made someone feel better with just a touch.

Sam let the thoughts that she tried so hard to keep away come flooding into her head. She could break around Mike. She could lose herself, because he was strong enough to pick her back up. She trusted him with everything.

She wanted it to be Josh, but it could never be Josh now.

She suddenly remembered a moment that stood out amongst the rest—one that she'd almost forgotten underneath all the guilt and pain. How could she have forgotten…?

The look on Emily's face when Mike had a gun pointed at her, the sheer terror—the only time Sam had ever seen such a true, genuine emotion from the cold girl's impassive, indifferent face.

For the first time in weeks, since they'd gotten off that mountain, she actually had a chance to think about the repercussions—what that must have done to their relationship…. If there was any relationship left.

She collected herself enough to speak. "Have you talked to Emily lately?"

Mike nodded his head slowly, "Yeah," he answered simply at first, but then continued after a short pause, "Yeah we uh… talked last week." His voice was somewhat distant, though still simple.

Sam lifted an eyebrow. "How did it go…?" she asked inquisitively.

Mike's vision was suddenly stolen by the horrible memory, the image he'd never be able to get out of his head as long as he lived. Her body shriveled into a helpless ball, cowarding against the wall like a frail animal. Waiting for her friends to doom her, her ex to pull the trigger and end her life.

 _It was the day that they had all gone to Josh's grave. Mike had texted Emily a few times before then, but nothing more serious than an "Are you okay?" or "How is Matt?" But they both knew what hung in their air between them, what they constantly ignored. But he was done dealing with this guilt. He was never one to run from his problems, even emotional ones he handled like a true man._

 _After Sam had finally left the cemetery the day they had all gone to see Josh, Mike met back up with Jessica, who was still with Emily, both of them sitting in the front seats of Mike's car. He saw them laughing and smiled a pleased smile. Had they really worked everything out? Were they best friends again…? Mike couldn't believe it yet._

 _"Alright, Mike and I will meet you there," he heard Jessica say, not including him in the planning process as usual. He watched as Emily got out of the car and made her way to Matt's._

 _She walked slowly past Mike, who had his hands submissively in his pockets. They hadn't been alone together since that night. He looked away from her nervously._

 _He couldn't believe that she still even looked at him, that she hadn't ripped his balls off with her bare hands when they got back home or beaten the shit out of him or clawed him to death. Acting civil around him was more than his simple mind could comprehend. She must be hiding something._

 _"Hey," he stopped her. She looked up at him, her head slightly tilted. She was still glowing from making up with her best friend, from having an incredible weight lifted from her life._

 _"… You and Jess okay?" he finally asked, still dancing around the issue. It wasn't what he'd wanted to say. But it was a valid question._

 _Emily's smile grew on her lips again and she simply nodded. "Super fine," she quoted Sam with a hint of a laugh, an actually genuinely happy laugh, for the first time in longer than Mike could remember. It made him smile as well, showing his perfect white teeth. He took a small but cautious step closer._

 _"… What about me and you?" Mike asked in that casual yet somehow suddenly-dropping-a-bomb voice of his._

 _Emily nodded, "Yeah of course," she responded slowly, eyes confused._

 _Mike sighed deeply. His expression shifted suddenly. "I almost_ _ **killed**_ _you… You were there—remember that?" he asked boldly._

 _Emily's stone cold gaze, unchanging unlike Mike's, drifted down slowly toward the ground, a string of jet black hair falling in front of her face. "….. But you didn't."_

 _Mike scoffed at her clichéd logic. But Emily took a step closer to Mike, looking up at him, her expression still cold and blank but with a new fierceness in them now. "Mike, in the end, when it came time to do what was best for the rest of the group, to do what you_ had _to to save your friends… You couldn't. You_ couldn't _do it." She shrugged, "You couldn't kill me, and that's what mattered." Even if it took her a while to realize it._

"Mm, we're gonna be okay," Mike assured Sam.

"Wow. Glad she came around." Sam's eyebrows raised high, clearly not expecting the best from Emily. But then, they'd all changed so much… And she'd seen even Emily change.

"Well you know, she's um… she's complicated." Mike didn't necessarily defend Emily against the others, but he did understand her and Jessica both more than anyone else, having the most history with the two girls.

Sam nodded quietly, eyes slowly drifting away from Mike's leg to the floor, where they froze as the silence began to weigh heavy on both of them. All of the things unspoken were almost tangible in the thick air.

Finally, Sam's sobbing voice returned, "Mike…." she began in a broken murmur, finishing with a cathartic but heart wrenchingly sincere shout, "… I just miss him _SO MUCH_!" Her face twisted in pain, wet from new tears that came all at once.

Mike had never heard such a simple sentence contain so much truth and emotion, and it shook his sturdy foundation. He couldn't even begin to imagine the pain Sam felt at everything that had happened—what had happened to Hannah and Beth, what it had done to her close friend Josh, and then what she had done when she left Josh, the one person who understood her best in the world, and not to mention how it must've felt to learn she had been wrong and unable to help him all that time. But he began to imagine it now, for the first time, to feel a small part of the pain she felt all the time, as she broke.

Feeling the warmth of Sam's head in his lap as she wrapped her arms around his torso and sobbed unreservedly, Mike's thoughts drifted. He was always able to stay on the brighter side with Jessica—it was somehow easy when he had to be the strong one—but being with Sam was different… She was… his equal. Whether intentional or not, they both dropped their walls around each other.

And to see someone so strong—the strongest person any of them had ever known by far—completely shatter into his lap… His face, along with this thoughts, darkened.

Mike was the one who had done this to her. He was the reason she'd never be with him… He watched Josh die. He _stood_ there. And just _watched_.

He was the last one who ever saw Josh alive. And then he realized something that made it worse.

He had never told Josh that Chris had gone back for him….. Why hadn't he told him….?

He would never forgive himself for that.

He not only deserved to know, but he needed to know. To know just how much he meant to his best friend, and how much Chris had risked for him—that he'd so quickly forfeited his own life for even the chance of saving Josh.

Instead he died thinking his own best friend hated him and would never forgive him for what he did to all of them. He died thinking he was not only a terrible person, but worse, a terrible friend.

Mike felt for the first time a hint of what the others felt at losing Josh, the guilt and the sadness, as it twisted a hole in his chest. For the first time, a tear fell from his deep green eyes and he buried his face into Sam's neck as she cried into his chest.


	16. Kinks

Ashley cleaned franticly, unable to believe she had suggested this. Chris was coming over to her place. He had been doing a lot better the last few weeks, but he was still haunted by Josh, and being that he and Josh spent more time in Chris's room than anywhere else growing up, he had a lot of bad memories to deal with there. Spending time there just turned into a depressing version of how things had been before when Ashley used to come over, both of them wanting to leap on the other and rip their clothes off, but never making a move because they were both too scared. He had wanted to be with her somewhere else, somewhere that he could be more like himself. How that turned into him coming over to her house was beyond her.

No matter how much she wanted to be with Chris every moment on the day, there were still parts of her that she just didn't know how to show him, not yet. Didn't know how to show anyone. She'd been alone most of her childhood after all… What if finding out who she really was made him not want to be with her? The thought froze her in place. Losing Chris terrified her more than anything. She finally had him, and he was getting much closer to being his old self again, although she knew he would never really be over Josh.

She continued to Chris proof her room, which turned out to be a lot more work than she realized. Her single dad never even came up stairs anymore, much less went in her room, so hiding things was never a problem. She scanned the room one last time making sure everything she wanted to hide from Chris was packed away from sight and things like her PlayStation were made super obvious. She had also spent a lot of time making sure her bed was as clean and inviting as possible, although she was worried that some of her plans for later would also make it harder to keep some of her secrets...

The doorbell rang through the house.

SHIT FUCKSHIT SHIT SHITFUCK.

Ashley swore as she sprinted down the stairs and past her dad. He was passed out drunk on the couch like normal—didn't even know Chris was coming, and would never even find out. She again thought of how glad she was that Chris was coming back from pit of drinking. For a couple weeks she saw far too much of her father showing in him. Then she screeched in surprise as her foot caught the cord of the vacuum cleaner she had left out that morning. On her way to the floor she managed to grab the lamp off a nearby table and bring it with her. The resulting thud combined with the shattering lamp was amazingly loud. As she tried to climb to her feet, still dazed, she heard Chris shouting her name and beating on the front door, she did her best to hurry to let him in before he Hulk Smashed his way through himself. And she couldn't help but think it was sweet that he was about to break her front door down to make sure she was alright.

By the time she reached the door the beating had stopped and she wondered if he had decided to call 911 or something. But as she opened the door, she saw a blur of six foot blond fly shoulder first thought the opening and into the wall across the foyer.

After pulling himself off the wall, Chris grabbed Ashley by the shoulders. "What happened?! Are you okay?" Ashley, now holding her bloody nose, could only mumble awkwardly, "I was cleaning up for you…

Chris went through a number of facial expressions and walked in a small circle trying to grasp the situation but gave up and decided that Ashley not actually being any danger would have to do.

Ashley began to apologize, but was interrupted by Chris scooping her up in his arms, and the next thing she knew, she had been sat on the kitchen counter and Chris was carefully wiping the blood off her face. Then in the same moment both of them had the same urge to kiss the other, which turned into Ashley smashing her forehead into Chris's nose with a surprising amount of force.

About thirty minutes later, all four of their nostrils were plugged with tissue. Both of them were sitting on the floor of Ashley's room taking turns at the newest version of Dark souls, switching every time they died, which Ashley noted felt more like a game of hot potato with a gamepad then actually playing.

Ashley very slowly and carefully laid her head on Chris's shoulder, she had actually spent a large amount of her high school evenings sitting against him just like this, pretending that he was hers and not just her closest friend. But now that he actually was hers, it suddenly felt awkward and new.

Chris died again and instead of handing over the game pad, he just let it drop from his hands to the carpet in a gesture of surrender. Then he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the side of her head. She squeezed tightly against him, and their lips met each other this time. It was a long and savored kiss, not like the hurried ones they had had before, this was a real kiss. They finally began to pull apart, then Chris let out a snort, trying to stifle a laugh.

"What is it? … Am I that bad?" Ashley sounded like she might cry.

"No, _no_ you're… amazing! Not that I have any comparison," Why did he say that? "It's just…" Then he chuckled again. "Remember what I promised when we planned this?" Ashley narrowed her eyes, accusingly. "You are _not_ going to be sad about Josh on your first time in your girlfriend's room! Ashley silently cheered herself on for referring to herself as his girlfriend. "No, it was just, a funny stupid thought!" "Chris! Just tell me!" She shoved him back a little.

Chris closed his eyes in full-hearted laughter, and began to explain, "I glanced at the window and..." He had to laugh before he could speak again, "I imagined I saw Josh hanging upside down outside your window… holding a sign that said… 'TAKE HER TO THE BONE ZONE!' with his thumbs up wearing this _goofy smile like a little kid_!"

Ashley shoved much harder this time, making Chris fall on his back, still laughing. Then she climbed on top of him and punched him several times in the chest. Chris's face was a mixture of amusement and actual fear for his life. "So. You think it would be _funny_ to… 'take me to the bone zone'?!"

They both froze in place for a moment. Ashley wasn't sure what she had meant to say, but it definitely wasn't that… She looked away from him, a bit embarrassed at using their silly term, but then Chris suddenly became very serious and said very sternly, "I know what I must do." And in almost a single movement, Chris climbed to his feet and threw Ashley over his shoulder, ignoring her shriek of fear and protest and her pounding on his back as he carried her toward the bed.

The next thing Ashley knew she was laying on her back, Chris's body just inches above hers. He raised one eyebrow in a very sophisticated look, "I consider taking my girlfriend to the bone zone to be a _very_ serious issue," he said with an upscale British accent.

"Oh really?" She paused, "Is that why you didn't for a whole year…?" Ashley raised her eyebrows challengingly, though he knew she was joking.

Chris pointed a finger at her, pausing, "Fuck you," he said definitively, with a hint of a smile on his face. She giggled, murmuring quietly, "That's the plan," before she smashed her lips against his as much to shut him up as to kiss him.

Ashley rolled Chris over, and he let her. She bit his lip as she kissed him, and he moaned against her lips. She inhaled a deep breath at the feeling and then brought a hand to his hair, grabbing a handful to jerk roughly. His head fell back, his eyes closing, as he groaned through bared teeth. Ashley smiled, amazing Chris with how she knew exactly what he wanted.

She slid her hands under his shirt and pulled it over his head; she was becoming less timid, Chris noticed with a smile. But just as he did, he also noticed the fingerless gloves she always wore… even when they'd been naked, he left them because he thought she was adorable with them. He slid his hands into hers, tilting his head gently, "I noticed you always wear these…" he murmured absently.

Her gaze fell from his eyes, "You don't like them?" she asked evasively.

He looked up at her with a sideways smile, "I think they're adorable," he said sincerely as he stroked a hand through her soft brown-orange hair, "But, just like the rest of your clothes, they're about to come off," he said with a charming half smile. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do. She kept them on for a reason—she was so used to keeping it a secret, keeping that part of her life to herself—and she was scared what Chris would say. But she was also tired of keeping it from him, who'd given everything for her, and was beginning to feel that there was nothing, even the things she never thought she'd share with another human being, that she wanted to keep from him.

So she merely squirmed uncomfortably as he grabbed them, her body tensing unsurely. Once he slid them off, his smile faded. "Ashley….." he murmured after a reluctant silence, his voice quiet, but broken, full of shock and pain. He held her wrist close to his face, reading every scar like a book. There were so many… Ashley's head was turned away, but he could see a tear rolling down her cheek. His face twisted into a sad, sympathetic grimace, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I was afraid…" she stammered finally.

Chris held her wrists tightly with his strong hands, is if it would wash all the marks away. He couldn't stand to look at them. "Afraid of _what_ Ash?" he asked incredulously.

"That if you knew… how fucked up I was…" she sniffed quietly, as if not sure how to go on; she never talked about this part of her, "You wouldn't want me anymore…"

Chris sat up suddenly, and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tightly too him. His face in her stomach, he muttered, "Ash you're all I've got, you know that right…? I should be the one worried about losing _you_ …" He looked down, still ashamed of how he'd acted when they first got home, "Without you I'm done. You're why I'm still alive right now. Do you really think there's _anything_ I wouldn't do for you?"

She knew there wasn't. She'd known all along. She said nothing in reply, she just wrapped her arms around him and sobbed. Tears of relief, tears of happiness. They were the forces that held each other together, that kept each other from unravelling. "I can't help it Chris…" she finally murmured when she'd gathered the courage to speak. "It feels like… it's the only way to stop the pain sometimes…" her voice was choked. Chris's hands gripped her tighter at her words reflexively. "Has it just been… since the lodge or…?"

Ashley attempted to steady her breathing, "I've always had problems with… bad thoughts, for as long as I can remember, but… I started doing this after… last year…" He could tell it was hard for her to talk about it. He had no idea that she struggled with depression… He knew she seemed… off sometimes, but he had no idea… _Dammit_ , he was stupid. First Josh, now Ashley. He was worthless.

"God I'm sorry, Ash… I should've been there to help you… I would've never forgiven myself if you'd have…" his voice trailed away now too, giving way to tears that he no longer tried to hide around her.

"No, Chris, this is _not_ your fault okay?" she said, suddenly very adamant. She forced him to look at her, "You're _not_ taking the blame for this. Just because I am too pathetic to ask for help when I know I need it…"

Chris lifted her arms to his face, pulling it out of her stomach. He pressed his lips to her wrists gently, rubbing his lips across every inch of them in soft kisses.

"Ash, I love you— _all_ of you. You never have to hide anything from me."

"I'm scared, Chris," she admitted, her big green eyes looking into his, "There's just… so much that I've never told anyone… about me…" she said timidly.

Chris played with her hands in his, "Well… I want every part of you. Not just the good and the beautiful parts. I want the bad parts too. The sad part and the ugly parts, and the crazy parts and the kinky parts…" he trailed off, but he was also interrupted.

"Kinky?" Ashley tilted her head, eyebrows furrowed questioningly. "Well—I mean—if you had kinky parts… I would, want to, um… know, because I… I uh, love all your parts and… stuff." He tried to hide his embarrassment behind smoothness, but he was nowhere close to smooth there. Ashley giggled as Chris tried to backpedal. "So… you _really_ wanna know my kinks?"

"Yeah, I mean… I want to know everything Ash." His voice was totally sincere, having no clue what he stepped on.

Ashley reached over to the drawer of her night stand and slid it open. Chris peeked over in interest as she pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Chris smiled at her, "So you like being handcuffed?" he asked, sounding much smoother now, an eyebrow raised.

"I'll give you one more guess," Ashley said, an evil grin forming on her innocent little face.


End file.
